


Resident Evil Dark Files: Raccoon's Shadow

by Egyptianmaus



Series: Dark Files [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gore, Horror, Implied Sexual Content, Missing in Action, Murder, Murder Mystery, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Survival Horror, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egyptianmaus/pseuds/Egyptianmaus
Summary: It was a normal spring day when the two bodies of nine and seven-year-old sisters Becky and Priscilla McGee were found mutilated beyond recognition inside Victory Park. It was seen as a tragedy, a horrible loss to the city. Then a third victim, Tonya Lipton, was discovered in the same fashion while hiking in the Arklay mountains. (F.N.) Frost, a recent graduate of journalism at Raccoon College, started to take notice of the killings and felt something off with them. Her final assignment is to write up an article surrounding the city and she chose these murders to look into. (F.N.) is now on the case and ready to solve it, even when everyone is telling her to stop. But (F.N) is not someone who likes to throw the towel in so fast. There is a story here, and she is going to uncover it, not just to get a good grade, but to do the victims justice for their horrible deaths. But her meddling has reached the attention of someone else--someone working in the shadows and pulling strings in Raccoon. They want her gone, and if that means she has to be another body, then so be it. The time is ticking down. Can she solve the case in time?
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Reader
Series: Dark Files [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988665
Comments: 30
Kudos: 20





	1. Cannibal Killer Strikes Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Wow! we are finally here! And I am so happy to introduce you to my third story and the first book of my Dark Files series. I want to thank you all who have been asking me about this story; because of you, we are here today with chapter one of this story, and what a story we are in for! So, get comfortable, kick up your feet and be ready for a long ride because this is the start of a very long story. Without further stalling, please enjoy this chapter (it's a short one, but I promise the next one will be longer!)  
> Don't forget to drop a like and a comment telling me how you like the first chapter! Stay fab!

“Good morning, everyone. I’m afraid I have some sad news this morning.”

I stirred my thoughts and eyes away from the stove and towards the tv behind me, where the newscaster’s mournful eyes stared through the screen. The grey suit she wore dulled her eyes even more and made the silver in her hair shine.

“Another body was found early this morning by two hikers in the Raccoon Forest district. Police have reported the victim’s name as Tonya Lipton and marked her as the third victim in the cannibalistic serial killings.”

My full attention was stuck to the tv, entirely forgetting about the fried eggs cooking behind me.

_Another victim? So soon?_

“Her body was discovered by two locals early this morning. Chief Irons made a statement in regards to the case earlier today.”

The fat, old man appeared on the screen. I couldn’t help but notice the heavy bag under his eyes as he spoke; it made him even creepier...if _that’s even possible_. A disgusted shiver trickled down my spine. I never liked him—always thought he was a walking lawsuit ready to snap.

“Miss. Lipton’s body was discovered at approximately eight twenty-four this morning by two locals in the area,” his curt voice trickled over to where I stood. “They stumbled upon Miss. Lipton’s mutilated body just off the trail. I can’t say anything more as it is still an active case, but just know that we here at the R.P.D. are doing everything we can to find whoever did this.”

His face faded out and was replaced once more with the female reporter. “In other news today,” her voice perked up, “the spring fair is coming to town this weekend in Victory Park. Flowers, rides and food—”

—The fire alarm blared overhead, and the smell of smoke filled my nose. I jumped around and noticed the burning eggs and snatched up the pan, and threw it under the faucet. As soon as the cold water hit the pan, black smoke billowed into my face, making me cough.

“Are you trying to burn the house down before noon?” Mom’s hurried voice scraped against my ears as she swiped up the dish towel and waved it in front of the fire alarm.

The eggs were charred black as coal and smelt like something you’d drag out four-day-old garbage. I gagged and scraped the food into the trash, turning my head away as the smell wafted into my face. “Sorry, I was listening to the news.”

“What else is new?” I heard her mumble as she tossed away the towel and hurried around the kitchen while tying up her hair and fixing her dress shirt.

“They found another body this morning. They say it’s the third one connected to the cannibal killings.”

That paused mom for half a second before she resumed getting ready for work. “Oh? Really? That’s...awful...I feel sorry for the family...where did I put my glasses?”

My eyes shifted to her glasses atop her head. “Check your head.”

Her fingers patted her forehead before resting on her glasses. “Oh, thank you! I need to run into the office today. I’ll be late again, so don’t wait up for me with dinner, OK?” She turned to me with a sad smile stretching across her face.

She always gets called into the office on her days off. _The damn office can’t afford to hire any good workers? Why would they spend extra money on two people when they can just underpay my mom and make her work double the hours? Typical sleazy ass-licking—_

“—Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I won’t wait up for you. Have fun at work.”

She sighed and strolled over beside me, forgetting about rushing for just a moment as she placed her hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “I know it’s hard...but it pays well. It won’t be for much longer, we’re just in crunch time right now, and Peter is off sick with a broken leg for another week. It’ll slow down again, you’ll see.”

She’s been saying that for years; _You’ll see._ Well, I can see she’s lying to me. I don’t know why she bothers anymore; who is she trying to fool?

I managed a weak head nod for her sake. “OK.”

“Can you unload the dishwasher for me? Oh, and take the trash out and tell your father—”

“I know, I know...just breathe and go to work. I got everything under control here.”

She didn’t look convinced—which kind of hurt. _Not like I would ever voice that to her. She’s already got enough to worry about as is, and I know Joseph moving out hasn’t settled her nerves any less._ Her eyes rolled over to the messy kitchen and the catastrophe I called ‘breakfast’ and pushed her lips into a pout. “Just...don’t lite the curtains on fire again, OK?”

“Mom!” I groaned. “That wasn’t my fault! Joseph—”

—She grabbed me into a tight hug with a laugh and patted my back. “I know! Blame your brother!”

A genuine smile cracked my lips as I laughed with her. “It always worked before; why change it up now?”

“Are you going to visit him later today and check out his new apartment?” She swiped up her car keys and shoved her feet into those pointy high heels that hurt my feet just looking at them.

“Yeah, I was thinking of checking in on him after.”

“(F.N)—”

“—What?”

She gave me that look—the look I’ve seen a thousand times. She was warning me without opening up her mouth because she knew I’d fight her on it. “Tell him ‘hi’ for me! I’ll see you tonight! Be good, _I mean it_!” The door clicked shut behind her as she hurried down the driveway and inside her car.

With her gone and dad gone to the store, the house was empty with just the sound of the commercials playing in the background and the burnt smell of my failed attempt at breakfast still hanging in the air.

My eyes drifted over the messy kitchen, wincing as I landed on the burnt pan in the sink. The clean dishwasher button flashed out of the corner of my eyes as I placed my hands on my hips. I turned my back on the mess with a huff and started for the stairs to my room. I’ll clean up the mess once I get back...I wanted to ask the R.P.D. some questions; maybe Joseph will drop something I can work with while I’m there. He should know about the cases.

I tossed my Pajamas to the side and opted for my usual pair of worn jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt—it might be spring, but the mornings can still bite. With my hair fixed, I snatched up my notepad, tucking it tightly under my arm as I shoved my feet into my old sneakers and started for the front door. _I didn’t technically lie to mom...I_ _am_ _going to see Joseph today...just at his work is all._

* * *

**R.P.D**

People were bustling through the entrance and main hall of the R.P.D. when I walked inside. I recognized some of the reporters that frequented the press meetings; some gave me a small wave as I passed them as I headed straight for the receptionist desk.

Leah’s smile lit her face as I paused in front of the glass. “Hi, (F.N), here for the press conference?” Leah was always nice to me. I used to go to school with her youngest son, Danny. The school’s jock and, ahem, lady’s man. I don’t know what went wrong with him. How could someone be so...well, him when your mom is this sweet?

“Yes, but I just wanted to ask if my brother was at the office still?”

Leah fixed her glasses on her nose and flicked her eyes to the clock behind her. “He should be in a meeting with Captain Wesker about now. Maybe another half hour and he should be done. Want a coffee?”

That’s perfect. It’ll give me enough time to pop into the press room, ask some questions then pop over to Joseph right after.

I shook my head and fixed my purse strap over my shoulder. “No, that’s OK, Leah. Thanks though. I’m going to head to the press room now.”

“Hold up!” She reached into one of the drawers and handed me a visitor’s pass. “You’ll need one of these to get in.” She wiggled the small laminated card out with a motherly smile on her face.

I pinned the flimsy card to my jacket and waved goodbye before turning on my heels and starting for the East wing.

As my shoes squeaked down the hall, the constant chatter grew louder as I neared the press room. The smell of cleaning supplies wafted to my nose as I turned the last corner and nearly smacked into someone. I quickly apologized and hurried inside the room.

It was packed with reporters and camera crews. They shouted questions and inquiries over each other, their faces all directed to the three men seated at the black table at the back of the room. I knew them well. Chief Irons was in the middle, dabbing his shiny forehead with a handkerchief as he rattled off generic answers to the press.

To his right was Detective Elliot, as calm and collected as usual. His heavy lids gave him a no-nonsense feeling to his stare, but I know once you start talking about hockey with him, the guy’s eyes would light right up, and a grin curls his lips.

On the Chief’s left was Sergeant Carlsen. His silver hair glistened under the harsh lighting above and cast his icy blue eyes into shadows, and made the heavy bags under his eyes more noticeable.

“Chief Irons! If these cases are connected, does that mean we’re dealing with a serial killer in Raccoon?” One of the reporters asked.

“We haven’t received any results from our labs, but it looks like all three victims were killed by the same person—or animal.”

“Chief Irons!”

His eyes turned over to me, recognition dawning on him as he pointed. “Y-yes...you there.”

“You said the victims were all mutilated. Couldwe be dealing with some kind of animal attack and not a human?”

It was Detective Edwards that answered. “With my understanding, it _is_ the work of an animal that mutilated the victims, why is still unknown, and _that_ is why we can’t rule out human involvement just yet.”

“Has a group of officers searched the area yet for any signs of animals that could do this?”

Chief Irons huffed. “Our officers are doing _everything_ they can right now, Miss. Frost. It’s in their best interests _and_ mine to make sure the citizens of Raccoon feel safe. We do not have the bodies to start a search party for a potentially deadly animal, especially not with the size of the Arklay mountains. Still, we know they are doing everything they can right now to find the killer.”

“Chief Ir—” I stifled a gasp as a heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder and spun me around.

“Why don’t we just let them handle the other reporters, hm?”

Relief flooded me as soon as I came face to face with Lieutenant Marvin. “Marvin? What’re you doing here?”

“I’m _here_ to look after _you_ because I knew you’d be down here as soon as you heard the news.” He finished by crossing his arms and raising a thick eyebrow at me, daring me to contradict him.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about this case? She’s the _third_ victim, Marv— _mutilated_ beyond recognition! This isn’t just a regular animal attack.”

“Why don’t you go hang out with your friends, go goo-goo over guys and whatever it is kids your age do these days...just...get your nose out of this dark business.”

I tried protesting as he led me out of the press room, but it was no use. He grabbed both my shoulders and all but shoved me out of the room and down the East hallway. People passing by gave us a weird side glance, but as soon as they saw my face, they rolled their eyes and puffed out a laugh as they shook their heads. _Guess my name precedes me._

I shook him off as we started for the entrance door; his annoyed huff blew in my face as I turned to face him and clamped my hands over my chest. “Tryin’ to get rid of me, Marv?”

“Yes.”

His blunt answer didn’t hurt; I knew he was just trying to protect me by keeping up his cold front. “Well, too bad, I’m here to represent the Raccoon College newspaper, and I have a right to be here and report on these grizzly murders.”

“Between you and your brother, I don’t know which one of you is more stubborn and a bigger pain in my ass.” He let out a long breath, fixed his stance and stared me down. “Aside from locking you up, there isn’t a thing I can do...and I don’t want you harassing the other inmates, so I’ll just look the other way—” he grabbed my arm as I tried walking past him. His voice lowered, and his eyes went cold. “But, you better watch your back; you may have good morals and just want to do good with this work, but reporting is anything but safe. People will stab you in the back and feed you to the wolves without batting an eye, you hear me?”

“Yes, Marvin. I’ll watch my back—but I guess that’s what you’re here for, right?”

“Heh! I ain’t no personal bodyguard, (F.N)! I already got enough to worry about than having to babysit you.”

“Love you too, Marv. See you around,” I grinned, earning a brow furrow from the man.

“You remember what I tell yeah!” He shouted.

My grin still cracked my lips as I turned the corner and started for the library.

Marvin is the station’s best officer and father to everyone here—including annoying college girls trying to report on cases. I snorted as I reached the lounge and started for the hall.

No matter how many times I come in here, it still amazes me. The place used to be an art museum back in the day, and it shows in the places architecture and layout. It was beautiful—nothing I’d expect a police station to be.

Two voices carried down the hallway. I perked up my steps as I recognized his voice. As soon as I turned the corner, the two voices cut short, and Joseph’s eyes locked with mine. The humour in them dulling as he flicked to the notepad in my hand. “No.” He stated bluntly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I just wanted to ask you if you knew anything about the case.”

“And I just answered all of your questions: No.”

“Well, that answers my question if any woman would ever want to date you.” I plucked up my pencil and pretended to jot in his reply. A snicker came up beside him; it was then that I realized his friend—and fellow teammate—Chris was standing there. He hid his amusement behind a cough as Joseph flung him a dirty look.

“I’m serious, (F.N). I’m not telling you anything. Just go home and do something else.” He tried to shove past me, but I blocked him.

“Why is everyone silent on what attacked the victims? What kind of animal did it?”

“It’s an ongoing investigation, (F.N); I can’t tell you a lot. Besides, I’m not assigned to the case.”

“Bullcrap. I know S.T.A.R.S. is looking into the case. I saw Albert Wesker’s statement in the newspaper—Ow!” I winced as he flicked my forehead.

“You’re too nosey for your own good. Does mom know you’re here?”

“Yes. I told her I was coming to visit you,” I said proudly.

“Don’t lie. I know she wouldn’t let you come here if you told her you were.”

“I am not!” I shouted back with a growl. “I did tell her I was coming to visit you.”

“So if I call her right now and tell her you came to see me at work, she won’t lay an egg?” He called my bluff, and he knew he won because that stupid smirk kept crawling up the side of his face. “Thought so. Go home.” He shoved past me, this time succeeding.

“I don’t miss his attitude at home, little bastard,” I murmured as I watched his back disappear around the corner. I only broke out of my thoughts when I noticed someone shuffling behind me.

Chris’ amused smile faltered as our eyes locked, instead replaced with a sheepish grimace. Clearing his throat, he stood tall and levelled with me. “Good to see you again, (F.N). Sorry ’bout him, he’s just on edge right now.”

“You don’t have to explain that _blockhead_ to me. I know him better than anyone. What’s your take on these murders?” I said, changing my voice to a calmer tone.

Chris was already shaking his head and raising his hands before I finished my question. “Nuh-uh. I’m not getting involved. Your brother would kill me if I said anything.”

My brother had a lot of...distatestful friends, but Chris was one of the few I could stand to be around. Both of them were around the same height, but Chris had more mass on him than Joseph, so his remark about my brother killing him probably wouldn’t happen. My brother is tough, but sometimes even _I_ can take him down...when he isn’t watching...and when he steals _my_ bag of chips.

I let my eyes wander over his face—it was a good looking face—he’s no Freddie Prinze Jr., but he’s close to that. I saw nothing dishonest in his eyes—a little fidgety—but nothing telling me he was lying. I eased off and smiled at him. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know, OK?”

“Uh, er, OK.”

I guess there isn’t anything else I can dig up here...for now, I may as well head back home and get started on writing down my notes and filing them away. “It was nice talking to you, Chris.”

“Wait!” I froze at the abruptness of his voice and spun around. His face flushed red, and he dragged a hand through his short-cropped hair. “I, er, I was—I can walk you out—or if you’re heading somewhere else, I can take you there, I mean.” He slammed his mouth closed, the red of his face trailing down his neck grew darker.

I nodded my head and shrugged. “Sure. I’m heading out... can’t get any more information from here...unless—”

Chris’ chuckle sounded out as he stepped into rhythm beside me and turned the corner. “You don’t let things go easy, do you?”

“It comes with the field of work. My mom calls it stubbornness, and my brother, well, he calls it annoying. Sorry.”

He held the door open for me as we stepped into the lounge. “It’s alright. I understand. So, what news station do you work for? You seem kinda young to be a field reporter.”

It was my turn to blush, but I hid it behind my hair as I pretended to go over my notes. “Oh, I’m not a field reporter... I’m actually not an _official_ reporter at all. I’m enrolled at Raccoon college for journalism for my fourth year. My final project involves writing up my a piece—”

“—And these murders are your _piece_?” Anger laced his voice, he hid it well, but I could still hear it bleeding through.

“Well...yes—but I _know_ there is something more to this story than what they are telling us, Chris. I just know there is, and I’m going to figure out what it is and why they aren’t telling us anything.”

As quick as it came, his anger vanished in a flash. His eyebrows shot up, and he blinked down at me. “You really believe there is more to this case? Like what?”

“Well, for one, why would we have these animal attacks now? Sure the forest is filled with predator animals, but to have _this_ many attacks—brutal attacks—in such a short amount of time? Something smells fishy—”

— _All three victims were female; that’s as far as their connections go. Their ages are entirely different, so I don’t think this could be a serial killer; they usually have a...preferred taste and stick to it. Unless there is something with them that I’m not seeing? They didn’t know each other, though. The families have no affiliation with each other. What if—_

“What are you thinking?” Chris’ voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I didn’t realize how deep I got into my thoughts that when the light from the front doors shined through, I noticed we were already at the entrance. Chris’ expression was hard to read; amusement and maybe curiosity bled from his eyes. He held his hand on the door, but he didn’t open it.

“I don’t know, honestly. The victims don’t have anything in common, aside from being all female. I can’t see this being the work of a serial killer—animals definitely—but humans are involved somehow; I can feel it.”

Chris flicked his gaze around the room in a hurried mess before flinging them back onto me and leaned in with a hushed voice. “Listen, your brother doesn’t want you involved, but I agree with you. I know something is up with these cases, and I think you’re onto something. If I find any more evidence... I’ll let you know.” He was hesitant, but when he finally spoke, my hopes skyrocketed.

I vigorously nodded my head and was flipping open my notepad, and scribbling down my number. “Alright! Thanks, Chris.” I ripped out the paper and jammed it into his hands before he could protest. “Here’s my number; call me if you think of anything or get anything new.”

He stared at the scrap of paper in his hand with a stunned stupor. Unmoving, he finally broke it and met my stare with a simple head nod.

“I gotta go. Take care of my brother for me; he needs it.” I spun on my heels and pushed the door open, leaving Chris standing there as I made it out into the brisk air.

_This was perfect! Having Chris could really throw open my case. Even he was suspicious of these murders, and I bet if I keep poking around, I’ll learn something new._

I checked my watch and cursed under my breath. Shoving my notepad and pencil into my purse, I picked up speed. _Dad was going to be home soon, and if he finds me gone, he’ll tell mom...and she’ll figure out where I went._


	2. Unexpected Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! So glad to see you all again. I know it has been a while, but I have another chapter out for you! hurrah! Now that school is done for the semester (and I'm under lockdown for two weeks =/) I'm going to use the time to write! I'm already in the middle of the third chapter for this story so hopefully today or tomorrow I'll have it posted. as usual, stay fab and enjoy!

**hey everyone! So glad to see you all again. I know it has been a while, but I have another chapter out for you! hurrah! Now that school is done for the semester (and I'm under lockdown for two weeks =/) I'm going to use the time to write! I'm already in the middle of the third chapter for this story so hopefully today or tomorrow I'll have it posted. as usual, stay fab and enjoy!**

The apartment building was far nicer than I imagined it would be. Though the bricks on the outside were weather-worn and chipped in places, and the steps could use some repairs, the building looked sturdy and clean. The inside remains a different matter, but not that bad. Sure the wallpaper was a little torn here and there in some places. The murmured blaring of other tenants' t.vs echoed through the long hall and the thin walls as my footsteps creaked over the wooden floorboards. A few spiderwebs clumped together in the tight corners, but that was usual for any place.

Joseph did pretty good--shocking, considering how well he consistently kept his room. "Organized," he would say.

_It is organized...for a monkey enclosure._

The puff of air from my snort caught in my mouth as I examined the door numbered twenty-two. My feet paused in front of it while I eyed the paper in my hand once more to make sure I got the right number before knocking. My knuckles rattled against the dingy door.

Loud banging followed by curses came from the other side. Chains rattled and scratched at the door before the thing flew open. Joseph's smile faltered as he laid eyes on me. "I'm not answering any questions, (F.N)."

The response didn't hurt--I was expecting it. Raising my hands in mock defence, I gave him my biggest smile. "I'm unarmed and just here to see your new place. I promise."

His eyebrows drew, and his body froze; his beady eyes swept over my face and down to my empty hands. Seemingly satisfied that I didn't have my notebook in hand or sight, he jerked his head, opened the door wider and turned around.

That was as close to a verbal invitation as I was going to get out of him. With a shrug, I stepped over the threshold and didn't bother trying to conceal my amused smile from him as he turned around.

"You want something to drink?" He muttered.

"Coke?"

"Yep. Picked up a case today." He made a B-line for what I assumed was the kitchen while I continued to his living room.

No curtains hung up over the bay windows, allowing the late morning sun to blaze through and shine across the barren, white walls. It was hard to stare at without wanting to screen my eyes. The cardboard boxes he made me drag home from the grocery store were piled almost to the ceiling with all his stuff, and of course, he didn't bother naming anything on the side to help in organizing.

The armchair used to sit in our living room was now smack dead in the middle of the room facing his tv and his gaming system, covered in his work clothes.

_Glad to see moving out hasn't matured him. I don't think it ever will._

My eyes wandered down to the PS1 set up already by his computer, and the controller neatly tucked away. "I see you unpacked the t.v and your video game system."

Joseph appeared in the archway and stomped over, extending his hand out and offered me a coke. "Don't start. I got held up with work and haven't had time to touch any of the boxes. I'm off this weekend. I'll do it then."

The fizz from the soda tickled my throat as I guzzled it down and continued my inspection of his place. The two-bedroom apartment was a decent size, and the price was reasonably good considering the location. Car horns honked outside and the hush of traffic flying by accompanied the sound of a whining dog somewhere in the building.

"It will take some getting used to--the traffic, I mean. So used to just hearing the crickets chirping or the odd dog barking. Now, I got sirens and car horns." He took a swig from his soda before flopping down into the armchair.

"What you get for moving downtown."

"Keeps me closer to work."

When I swept my finger over the window ledge and brought it to my face, I gagged when it came back dirty. "How is work anyway?"

"(F.N)," he warned, drawing out my name and glaring me down from the other side of the room.

"I wasn't talking about the cases--you just looked tired, is all."

"It's these cases that got me so tired. They're driving us up the wall!" He tossed his head back with a drawn-out sigh.

"How are the cases--"

"--No!" He snapped. "I already told you last week, (F.n). Stay. Out. Of. This." The bags under his eyes only seemed to darken against his pale face as he expected a reply. "I'm serious. Do another story--"

"I already am. Geez! Keep your bonnet on."

"Oh yeah?" He challenged.

Everything I say and do is always placed under a microscope with him. Whether that be from childhood experiences or his work, maybe a little bit of both--I wasn't sure, but it got under my skin. "Yeah. I did."

"(F.n)."

"I'm serious!" I urge. "I'm doing it on the animal shelters in the city. You can read my notes if you want." Well...it is half right.

The silence between us became palpable and uncomfortable, like having the light from an interrogation room blasted on my face. What was he always thinking about in that thick head of his?

Finally, at last, he exhaled. His voice was muted and hoarse. "Promise me you won't touch the cases again."

"I said I changed stories--"

"--Promise me...please, (F.N)? For me?"

My stomach knotted with the look in his eyes and sincerity in his voice. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get a full breath of air. "OK. I promise." The words tasted bitter in my mouth, and no amount of coke was enough to wash it away. It sat in my stomach like poison and ate away at my insides.

At the sound of my promise, his posture relaxed, and he sank back into the chair. A smile curled his face. The atmosphere in the room warmed, and it was like a weight lifted. He tilted his chin and eyed the PS1 behind me. "You still just as bad at Mega Man now as you were when we first got it?"

The smile twisted my lips without effort. "No. I'm better than you are now."

Joseph scoffed and strolled past me and over to the controllers, "doubt it. You could never coordinate your attacks."

"It was just a tactic I used so you'd underestimate me."

"Wasn't aware of a tactic where you lose every time so you could win."

"Normies wouldn't understand such a great tactic." I could feel him rolling his eyes without having to see it.

Shoving the controller into my hands, he plopped down on the floor in front of the t.v, just like how we used to when we were kids. "Let's go, tiger. Show me what 'ya got."

With a hum, I crossed my legs and joined plopped down beside him. "Get ready."

If my great tactic was working, it was eluding me greatly. For twenty minutes, the game kicked my ass. Joseph couldn't stop laughing, and my constant insults seemed only to make him laugh harder.

"A new girl was hired for S.T.A.R.S. the other day," Joseph said.

"Oh? Have you met her--damn it! I died again!"

I eyed his open hand he held out to me, prompting me to drop the controller into it as I laid back and sulked. "Yeah, we chatted for a while. She's a part of the Bravo team."

"And?"

"And...?"

"What is she like?" I snapped.

"She's...nice. Her name is Rebecca."

"Oh? Rebecca? Cute name." I nudged him with a snicker.

That broke his gaze away from the screen, causing him to lose. His voice lowered to a threatening growl. "Cut it out! It's not like that. You're worse than mom."

A giggle leapt from my mouth. "So, defensive!"

"She is younger than you!"

"Ew, so young?" My snort caught in my throat as he smacked my arm. "Acting indifferent? The first sign of denial."

"Cut it out..." He paused before a shadow of a smirk touched his lips. "Or I'll tell Chris how immature you are."

While he snickered at my wrinkled nose and pulled brows, I still couldn't put together what he meant by that remark. "O...K? Why would he care?"

"Acting indifferent? The first sign of denial, you said?"

"Denial of what? What are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely confused, but all I got as a response was a half-hearted shrug from Joseph. "Joe, what do you mean?"

"I don't know; why don't you tell me?"

His cryptic words made my muscles twitch. "The hell are you blabbering about? What did you tell him?"

"Don't worry; I didn't mention your little crush."

"Uh...I don't have a crush on him. Who told you that?"

"So defensive." He mocked in a poor imitation of me and batted his eyes, making me laugh.

"Meanie." I smacked him in the shoulder, resulting in him hitting me right back.

Our laughter filled the room. Our heads shook as we continued smacking each other in the shoulder. By the end of the matter, my cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, and it made it hard to sip on my soda while I watched Joseph play.

There was something about the look of his face that caught my attention, like he was far off but still focused on the t.v screen at the same time. Almost as if he was on autopilot. When he spoke next, his mocking and teasing tone was gone. Instead, a severe tone took hold. Hey, (F.n)? What do you really think of Chris?"

"What brought this on?"

"Just asking."

I turned the question over my head a few times, perking my lips as I tried to think of what I thought of the man. "He's cool. Kind of quiet and keeps you out of at least some trouble."

"Quiet?" He blinked and shook his head. "Chris? The guy has got to have the loudest mouth on the team. Irons hates him--well, both of us--but he can't stand Chris the most, and he makes it very well known the feeling is mutual." He said and handed me the controller.

Trying to picture Chris as a loud, smartass was a difficult task. He was always quiet and well-spoken from all the times I could remember him. My parents seem to like him too, which is a miracle in itself; they never get off on Joe's friends.

"Why does Chief Irons hate you guys?

"Irons hates a lot of us, but he hates Chris the most because Chris states his opinions and what's on his mind, which annoys Irons. That, and Chris kisses ass--neither of us does--which gets under Irons' skin. Guess he hates me because I'm friends with Chris and on S.T.A.R.S.--that and I can stir up shit." He said the last part as an afterthought, making my eyebrow quirk up.

"Yesterday," he continued. "Irons was chewing him out again. But Captain Wesker cut in and broke it up. Thankfully," he rolled his eyes. "Chris looked like he was about to level Irons--the fat creep deserves it."

I still couldn't picture Chris riled up enough to want to punch the chief of police in the face--as much as the man deserves it--

\--speaking of Chris, he still hasn't contacted me with any information regarding the cases. Maybe the thought of my brother wailing on him was enough to keep him silent. Well, as much as it would be nice to get hard evidence from the R.P.D. and S.T.A.R.S., I got a few leads of my own to look into. After I finish up here, I'll head over and talk to them.

"If you stopped spacing out, maybe you'd be decent at this game." Joseph's words cut in like a siren in the dead of night, waking me up out of my dream as the 'you are dead' screen flashes before me.

"Hm? Oh! I was just...thinking about some errands I have to run later. What time do you work today?"

"Captain Wesker wants to have a discussion board with some of the lieutenants and captains today around the late afternoon, but he wants us all to be there right after," he turned to me. "You got somewhere to be?"

I nodded and lowered the controller. "Kind of. I have some leads on my new story I want to follow up on."

"What kind of story are you doing again?"

"Just about the treatment of animals in the shelters in the city. I have an interview with an owner today."

He shook his head with a sigh, "Always the bleeding heart."

Dragging myself out of my thoughts and off the floor, I grabbed my bag and lugged it over my shoulder. "I'm going to head over to the shelter now--Oh, mom wants to know if you want to come over for dinner this week?"

"Sure. Let her know the weekend might be better with my schedule. Have fun with your story, little Miss. animal lover."

"See ya." I sang as I headed for the door.

Every step felt like a twist of the knife in my gut. Round and round, it twirled, like the thoughts in my head. But I just can't stop; the feeling of something lurking behind this case keeps tapping me on the shoulder and whispering in the back of my head.

_I'm sorry, Joe, but I have to do this. Please understand._

If the smell of urine-soaked pine litter didn't hit me hard in the face when I walked through the door, then the dogs barking surely did. Their ear-piercing howls and yips were accompanied by the click of nails across the linoleum floor. My feet stumbled back a step as the three huge Dobermans rounded the counter with their pointed ears perked my way and their long tongues flapping at the corner of their opened mouths. I raised my hands in anticipation as the dogs barreled my way--

\--Their heavy bodies wiggled with barely contained excitement and plowed into me, forcing me back a few steps. My hand caught the side of the counter before I could tumble on my butt, saving me from landing on the dirtied floor. My nervous laughter loosened as their cold, wet noses nudged into my hands and their tongues lapped at my face.

"Boomer! Mia! Copper! You get off her right now!" The raised female voice startled the three dogs. Their heads snapped around and focused on the middle-aged woman with a loose ponytail dangling across her back, her eyes pin-sharp as she glared at the three dogs. "You get off her--NOW!" With a snap of her finger, all three dogs bounced over to her, wagging their stub tails as their bodies scurried and jerked with energy. Their yips and yaps and howls fell on deaf ears as she scolded them. "Bad! You know not to jump on people. Bad!"

Her eyes softened as they flicked up to me; a tight smile graced her lips. "I'm sorry, they usually don't jump on people--not recently anyway. Are you alright?"

A lax smile creased my lips as the six brown eyes glistened up at me, and a few short howls cut in. "I'm fine. No harm done. Those are Dobermans, right? Cute dogs."

"Cute? They're nothin' but big sucks and leeches. Haha...but I guess they are cute." She was answered with more howls, and one dog pawing at her arm for attention. She patted the side of his head and gave a light scratch behind his ears, earning a woof! From him. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, my name is (F.N) Frost. I called the other day and was speaking with Denise. I asked her if it was OK to come in and ask her some questions regarding my story for my college program."

"Oh! That's right!" She quickly wiped her hands down the front of her jeans and extended one out towards me with a beaming smile. "I almost forgot. I'm Denise--the owner."

Just as she said her name, I caught sight of the name tag over her uniform. Grabbing her hand, I gave it a quick shake and returned her smile.

"We can sit in my office. Come on, in." She waved me over and held open a door towards the back of the store, nudging the dogs back as I flitted past her.

The inside of the office was small and cramped. Dust lined some of the shelves in the corner and loose dog hair hung in the air.

"Take a seat," Denise gestured to the chair opposite the desk. "This...interview, will it take long? One of my employees called in sick today, so I'm a little swamped right now."

The seat squeaked as I settled down into it. "It shouldn't take too long. I only have a few questions."

"And what did you say you were writing again? For a school newspaper?"

"Sort of." I shifted over the lumpy seat. "I work for the school newspaper. But this story is strictly for a final assignment for my program. I'm investigating the triple murders these past few months in the Arklay mountains."

Denise reeled back, her mouth ajar. "Oh? Well, I'm not sure how much I can help, but I'll do as much as I can."

"Thank you. Can you tell me if you heard about any recently lost dogs--big dogs--reported?"

Her eyes shift, and her head tilts. "We get missing dog calls all the time, but we aren't a shelter, so it's hard to remember them all. However, I still have some flyers from the last few months or so that you can go through."

I scribble down some notes as she rummages through her desk. "Do any stick out to you? Like violent dogs? Dogs more prone to attack humans?" I grab the flyers handed to me and skim through them.

"Violent?" Her eyes flicked to the side as her brows knitted in thought. "Not that I can think of."

"Are all the animal shelters and pet stores connected with some sort of database with all their animals, or do you all work separately? Like, if they get someone asking about a missing dog, they'd send you a photo as well?"

She shakes her head, "The owner would have to file a missing pet report and contact us individually. But like I said, we aren't a shelter, so we don't house any strays."

"I see. One other question: How big of a dog does it take to kill an average-sized human?"

The question comes abruptly, making her shift; Her chair squeaks, and her brows and voice lower. "Well, er, it depends. Technically any breed can kill an average adult. However, there are some breeds more prone to it. You have the bull terrier breeds, like the bigger stalkeier ones like bulldogs, mastiffs and Pitbulls. Then you have the taller and more muscular ones trained to attack, like German Shepards, Dobermans, Rottweilers and the such. I'd say if you trained or pushed a dog to the limit, any dog could seriously harm--or in your case--kill a human. I would say a broad range between fifty to sixty pounds and up could easily do it. We get a lot of labradors and retriever bites reported, and they're considered more family dogs."

_Guard dogs...maybe a gang is hiding up in the area and using guard dogs to keep people away? That could account for the violent injuries to the victims._

"I see. One last question: are there any reports of stray dog groups in the area by chance?"

Denise was already shaking her head. "None that I know of. Strays are prominent in any city, but a group or gang of dogs? That might be something the shelters or animal control would know more about."

With a smile, I grab the flyers in my hand and stand up; Denise followed after, "Thank you, this information is beneficial."

"No problem. I hope it helps with your story. Gruesome attacks; I hope they find the killers soon. The surrounding area has taken a hit with business because of these attacks. People are too scared to move around--even during the daytime."

With a final nod and goodbye, I inched myself around the wiggling dogs, keeping an eye on them as I started for the door.

_Guard dogs. It could be guard dogs doing the killings. All the victims seem to be isolated to a specific area. A hideout, maybe?_

The sidewalk was empty of people, quite odd for this time of day. It looks like the killings have, indeed, spooked the townsfolk.

My attention turned to the rustled flyers under my arm. My original thought was strays doing the killings. It's either a group of people with their trained dogs doing this...or a pack of wild strays...maybe even wolves--

"--OOF!" I smacked into something hard, knocking my flyers out of my hand. They slipped to the ground with a swish!. "Oh, shoot!"

"Oop--I'm sorry. Here, let me help." The voice startled me out of my stupor.

Chris was kneeling at my feet, plucking the loose papers up and straightening them. Shaking my head, I stooped down to lend a hand. "It's OK. I wasn't looking where I was going."

His eyes shifted over the lost dog pictures, his brows wrinkling as he swept through them all. "You lose a dog or something?" He said and handed me back the papers.

"Wh...Oh! No. I was working on my story. The lady at the Eagle's Pet Shop gave me these to go over."

"You still working on the story with the murders?" He towered over me. His cropped hair flicked in the light breeze as his eyes scanned over my face with an unreadable expression.

"Mhm. I think I have some ideas, but I still need to plan some more interviews." I quickly checked my watch. "Don't you work today?"

"Ye...yeah, a little later. I was grabbing some lunch before heading to the station. Did you...did you want to join me? I wanted to go over the story with you." I followed where he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to the diner. The sign Emmy's Diner flickered in the sunlight. My stomach growled in agreement.

Finally, he could shed some much-needed light on some of my questions. "Sure. That actually works perfectly for me."

His smile widened to a toothy grin. In a flash, he turned around and pulled open the door. "After you." He exaggerated a hand gesture, making me snort.

The diner was quiet; the only loud sound that could be heard was the bells' chime above my head from the door ringing loudly. Coffee and tea wafted the air as the few customers sipped on their drinks and murmured to each other.

_It seems like what Denise said about the businesses dying down around here is true._

The sound of food sizzling reached my ears, and the smell of grease made my stomach growl again--

"--Want a booth?" Chris' voice sounded out behind me.

With a nod, I followed him to the corner in the diner—a good choice. I don't want random people to overhear our conversation.

I slid into the booth, eyeing the small shops through the window as I settled my things down beside me.

My attention flicked over to the waitress with a smile on her face as she b-lined for our booth. The touch of silver to her hair and the laugh lines on her mouth reminded me of Leah. Her worn sneakers squeaked to a halt in front of our booth. She placed a soda in front of Chris and me. Her eyes fanned over to Chris, a soft smile creasing her eyes. "Hey, Chris. How's it going?"

Chris returned the light smile with one of his own. Hey, Tammy. I'm doing good. Just stopping by quickly for some lunch before my shift. How're the kids?"

"Troublemakers as usual," she joked. "What will it be? Your usual?"

"Yeah--oh, can you add an extra burger to the side? I need some lunch while at work."

"Sure thing, dear. And yourself?" It took me a second to realize she was speaking to me.

"Just a cheeseburger with fries, please."

"Sure thing!" Before turning around, she used one of the menus and lightly smacked Chris in the arm with it, giving him an odd look and a secret smile. The tips of Chris' ears turned bright red, and the man shifted in his seat with a cough. "I expect to hear about it later. I'll be back!" She all but skipped down to the kitchen, like a teenager.

"Guess you're a regular here?"

Chris' ears were still bright red as his eyes swept up to meet mine. He played it off with a loose shrug, but it came off as more of a twitch. "Sometimes. I like the food here, and it's faster than making my own."

The conversation Joseph and I had earlier came back, and I couldn't help but analyze it. Looking at Chris, he really was a nice guy--though he parties a little too much for my taste, that is normal for a guy his age. Heck, Joseph still does. But I guess that's why they call me a proverbial 'stick in the mud.' Though, now that I look at him, he does have that boyish charm--

"--So, what groundbreaking evidence did you find at The Eagle's Pet Shop?" His voice cut between us.

Quickly, I tossed my thoughts out and smiled. "I was checking to see if they reported any recent missing dogs...of the violent variety."

"Seeing if there is a correlation to that and the murder victims? Like a gang of violent dogs?"

"Something like that."

He raised his drink to his lips. "And? What did you find out?"

The proud feeling I had snuffed out. "Not a damn thing."

Chris' eyes widened as he choked on his soda. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he tried to wave off his bout of laughter and clear his throat at the same time. It was an amusing sight.

"You OK?" I finally asked as it seemed like his choking wasn't subsiding.

He waved me off between coughs and sputters. With a final cough, his boyish smile returned as he shook his head. "Nothing. So, you're at a dead-end again?"

"For now. I have a few other ideas."

"Like?" He quirked a brow.

"I was going to ask the conservation officers if they had any recent reports on wolves in the area. That and I started posting up bulletins around, asking for anyone with questions and information to contact me."

His aura dimmed, and the corner of his eyes appeared a little tense. "Oh, we already got in contact with them last week about that. They said a few wolves were in the area, but where they were recorded would be out of range for where the bodies were found. That, and they said it would be unlikely to be wolves that killed those people. The fact they left the bodies intact--for the most part--makes it unlikely. Wolves only attack to hunt and eat; it makes no sense for them to kill a human and leave...a lot behind."

Damn...he was right. Why would wolves or animals just leave the corpse behind if they were hunting? Perhaps territorial? They would kill the person and run, but he said there are no overlapping territories where the bodies were found. So, does that mean it is a group of people doing this?

"Damn...well, there goes one idea," I uttered under my breath. "What about you? What have you guys found out?"

His face pinched, and his fingers rapped across the table. His voice wavered when he did finally speak. "I, uh... I'm not really supposed to mention anything in regards to an active case."

_No, there goes my leads--_

"--But the last time we talked, you said you would..."

He froze with one hand midway through combing his hair. "Did I? I...I guess I did say...I could--but then your brother would get pissed at me." My shoulders sagged as he gazed at me. "Well, I, they...I know a few things I can mention--just don't tell anyone where you got it from."

"Thanks!"

He stared out through the window for several long moments before turning back to me. "My speculations are a group or gang up in the mountains--"

"--That are using guard dogs to keep people from discovering them?"

He nodded curtly. "Exactly."

"I had the same thought. But what could they be doing up there?"

"Drugs...or cult, I'm guessing. The most probable ideas."

"In such a small area? And shouldn't they be hiding the bodies if it was a drug gang so the police wouldn't catch wind of them?"

"Never said they were smart," he interjected.

"But where are they hiding? Is there any place up in the mountains?"

His mouth pressed firmly in a line before answering. "Barry told us there is an old estate up in the mountains built years ago and left to rot, could be there."

It wasn't much, but it was a lead nonetheless. Quickly, I scooped up my notebook and jotted this down. Of course! A hideout up in the mountains! But I wasn't aware of an old estate up there. Who built it, and why?

When I felt that Chris was oddly quiet, I glanced his way but found him already observing me from across the table. Nothing in his stare made me aware of what his thoughts were. He hid his emotions too well—one of the little things that bugged me about him. I could almost instantly get a read on someone, but not Chris. He always felt in control of his emotions whenever I saw him.

"What?" I finally asked, unable to take his staring for any longer.

"You just seem really into the case. Is that how you always are?"

Closing my notebook, I set it down on my lap and clamped my hands together. "I like mysteries and solving them. Unfortunately, it seems to get..."

"Annoying?"

I winced but couldn't find anything false about what he had said. I know I can be annoying. I try not to be, but I can't help it.

Chris looked just as uncomfortable as I felt and shifted in his seat once more. "Er, so you mentioned before. Your brother talks about it a lot too, haha."

Just hearing him say that made it less painful. I should be used to people saying that about me, but hearing him say it was Joseph who told him that and not his opinion of me made me--

"--He gets annoyed over everything I do."

"Well, he's your big brother; it's our job to be annoyed at our little sisters. But he doesn't mean half of what he says, and I can tell he's just worried about you."

"You have a little sister too?" I was genuinely surprised when he nodded.

"Claire. My baby sister. She just started college this year. She's a troublemaker, and I just like to make sure she's OK, even if that means being annoying."

"That's nice of you. You seem really close to your sister."

"Yeah. Mostly after our parents died, I practically raised her for a few years. She's all I got..." His voice grew distant as he looked at his folded hands on the table; the knuckles turned a bright white, and the veins started to pop up.

A pang hit my chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry--"

"--It's OK. It happened a few years ago." His voice sounded tight, but nothing on his face gave away what was going inside his head.

Just when the silence was becoming deafening, Tammy arrived with our plates of food and her beaming smile. Silently, she placed our plates down and smiled brighter before turning around to leave us alone once again. With no idea of how to lighten the mood, I picked up my fork and shoved a french fry into my mouth, not caring how it burned.

"Your brother really loves you, I can tell. He doesn't say it, but I can tell he cares for you." The declaration made me pause with another fry halfway in my mouth.

"He was one of my first friends. He beat up all the bullies for me, made sure I wasn't allowed to play with his friends and him, or be seen in public with him because, and I quote, 'I don't want a nosey, annoying girl following me around.'"

Chris' snort made me grin. "Yeah, I'd say he loves you."

Our laughter carried over the diner and stirred some people away from their coffees and food for a moment, but I didn't care. At least he was laughing now.

"Well, it never helped that I would always rat him out to my parents. That, and I would ruin his 'cool' image' at school. Heaven forbid--well, I can kinda understand, I embarrassed him with his first girlfriend--" My snort cut me off. "He didn't talk to me for two weeks after that. My mom had to drag us into the dining room and wouldn't let us leave until we made up. It took all night."

"Ruining his cool image, his first girlfriend and ratting him out... that's enough to drive any brother up the wall. I now feel sorry for him."

"Don't go on his side just because he's a boy," I jabbed playfully. "He deserved most of what he got. He used to stick gum in my hair and blame me for his messes."

Chris' nose wrinkled as he shivered. "That's nasty."

"I know!" I didn't realize how loud I had gotten when multiple eyes honed in on the side of my face. I sank deeper into my seat, but it didn't seem to do anything as Chris was chuckling across from me. "Sorry."

He shook his head and popped a fry into his mouth. "That's OK. It was funny."

I could feel my neck and cheeks heating up, and I begged to be anywhere else but here in that moment--

"--Shit." He uttered as he checked his watch and then back at me. The corner of his mouth tightened, and his eyes winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize the time. I gotta get to the office."

"Oh? Already?"

He nodded his head and began packing up his to-go bag, and stood from the table. His eyes were still soft as he spoke. "Thanks for talking with me today. I had a good time."

"No, thank you. You helped out with my research. Have a good day at work, and try not to get on my brother's nerves too much, OK?"

His mouth twisted into a high grin. "No promises. See ya around?"

"You know it. Oh, One more thing,"

Chris paused in his steps, his eyes questioning as I turned to face him.

"Don't tell Joe about what we talked about today. He already worries about me enough; this will just stress him out more."

He was a little hesitant to nod, but he did after a moment of consideration. "Got it. No problem. See ya 'round."

I remained seated as he speed-walked out of the diner, sparing me one final wave goodbye before leaving. I watched his back disappear through the door and stayed there even when he was gone.

I guess my idea of Joe's friends took a different turn as of today. Guess his ability to pick out good friends isn't wholly inadequate--

_\--What he said, about the estate in the mountains. I need to find the blueprints on that or anything. It's my only lead right now._


	3. Horror in Raccoon!

**Tuesday, June 2nd**

“It was a pack of huge creatures!” The man screamed and flung his hands in the air, trying to exaggerate his point. “Red and skinless--and smelt like corpses! They came running towards my truck. Thank God I had the windows open, or else they would have killed me! I got the hell out of there and came straight home. I said…”

My head went into autopilot, nodding at the right times and humming in agreement. My mind kept drifting towards the broadcasting going on behind the man. The words _Urgent Report!_ Flashed in bold letters across the bottom of the screen

_\--Looks like two joggers found another body late last night._

“Yes. big, Skinless--”

“-- _Huge!_ They looked like they were rotting!” His eyes bulged, and I could smell the acid on his breath, making me gage.

“Rotting? I see I see. Thank you, Mr.--”

“I’m telling you, those dog-things weren’t from this world! They were demons sent by God to cleanse this world of the evil plaguing this area! You better watch where you step, or you’ll be next.” He warned and waggled his finger in my face.

The smile hung loosely off my face as I folded my notebook under my arm. “Thank you. I’ll keep my eyes open. Thank you for your time. But I have to get to another interview right now. I’ll...I have to go.”

The man didn’t respond; all he did was turn around and mumble some half-crazed gibberish and returned to watching the broadcasting happening right now.

_I guess that’s what I get when I post flyers around town; bound to get a few unhinged people._

I scooped up my things and barreled out of the store. My feet hammered across the street, ignoring the traffic as I bolted down the sidewalk and towards the RPD station.

If that broadcasting was right, then Chief Irons was holding a press meeting right this instant. I can’t miss it!

Multiple eyes bore into my face as I flung the front doors open and hurried for the reception area where Leah was busy on her computer. She didn’t even flick her gaze from her screen as she reached over, picked up my visitor’s pass and plopped it in my open hand.

“They’re still in the press room,” she said calmly. “If you hurry, you can still ask questions--”

“--Thank you, Leah! I owe you one!” I said, throwing the visitor’s pass over my head and started jogging to the press room.

I earned quite a few glares from passing police officers as I slipped through the crowds and nearly barreled into one rounding the final corner. “Excuse me!” I tossed over my shoulder as I sidestepped around him and all but fell into the press room.

The room was packed with more news reporters and journalists than I ever saw at any other press meetings. Everyone was squeezed together, uttering things into their recorders and jotting things down in their notebook, all without paying anyone else any attention. The tang of body odour and stale perfume cupped my nose as I tried peering over the heads of everyone. Growling under my breath, I nudged myself through the crowds of lowlife reporters, some of which I know--it’s an insult to call them reporters or journalists. They don’t care about the story; they only care about the publicity--They side-eyed me as I nudged myself closer, earning an elbow to my chest as people shoved back. When I made it to the front of the podium, I finally caught sight of Chief Irons. His sweat glistened face was red and pudgy as he answered questions.

“This is the fourth body! Are they connected?” One reporter yelled over the others.

“Was the victim mutilated like the others?”

“Are there any suspects?”

“Please, everyone,” Chief Irons interrupted and raised his hand. “I’ll answer your questions. Yes, this is the fourth victim. Her body was found by two joggers late last night at approximately nine o’clock.”

“Where was she found?” My voice raised above the others.

The Chief’s beady eyes focused on me; they glinted and narrowed as our gazes locked. His shoulders rolled back. “Her body was abandoned not far from her home in Northwest Raccoon City.”

“Does she have any personal connections to the other victims?” The reporter to his left asked.

“No. As far as we’re aware, they have no connections.”

I raised my pen in the air, catching the Chief’s attention once more. “Did a pack of dogs attack her? Is there any evidence showing that this was gang or drug-related? Perhaps a hideout in the mountain’s old estate?”

Whispers resonated around me. I could feel the intense gazes of multiple eyes locked in on my face--even the camera turned to focus on me. _Oh, great._

But it was the Chief’s shaking shoulders and clenched jaw that stood out the most. “It is undisclosed as to _what_ animal caused her death. We need an autopsy to determine that--”

“--You haven’t had an autopsy done yet? Why is it taking this long?” I pressed.

“Young lady, these things take time--”

“--And during this time, you still haven’t given us any answers as to what’s going on here. Can you answer that question? Why the long silence from your end?”

“I can only say so much during an active investigation. That is all the questions I can take at the moment. Excuse me.” A cry of protests from the other reporters sounded out as he stepped away from the podium and turned to whisper something into Marvin’s ear.

It was only then that I noticed the man was standing there, and he didn’t look pleased as he glared through the crowd and down at me. A dark shadow covered under his eyes as he turned to nod at Chief Irons. Turning back to me, he stomped down the stairs; I could feel every stomp as it thundered in my chest, clawing its way up to my throat. His eyes glinted brightly as he shoved and pushed the journalists and reporters to the side to reach me. He didn’t slow down even as he grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me out of the press room. All eyes turned onto me as I was dragged away; their quiet speculations hung in the air.

“Now you gone and done it, (F.N),” Marvin said as he thundered down the hall with me behind him. “I can’t bail you out this time! Why you gotta come here and open up that big mouth of yours, huh? You got a death wish or somethin’?”

“Marv... you’re hurting me!” He twisted my arm at an odd angle as he turned the corner to the main hall. “Slow down, will you? What’s the rush?”

He stopped dead in his tracks halfway up the set of stairs and snapped his eyes to mine. The growl in his voice made me shrink away; it was a sound I never heard from him before. “The _rush_ , (F.N), is that Chief Irons has had it up to here with you. The little stunt you pulled back there got on his last nerve! He wants a word with you in his office-- _after_ he calls your parents. That’s the rush.”

No words would form in my mouth. He yanked me along to the second floor and towards the waiting room.

“You know (F.N), I warned you repeatedly, ‘don’t get your nose into things that don’t concern you!’ but you don’t listen to me! _I_ should have kept my nose out of this business. Damn kids will be the death of me.”

He continued to mumble to himself as he yanked open the waiting room door where the woman at the desk flung her eyes away from her computer. Her eyes widened as she noticed the glare on Marvin’s face and went to open her mouth, but Marvin cut her off.

“Hello, Emily. We’ll be waiting for Chief Irons out in the hall.”

She shrank back in her chair. “Sure, Marvin. Want a coffee?”

“No, thank you.” His smile was anything but warm. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

Emily trailed her gaze off the shaking man and over to me. They softened, and a silent understanding passed between us.

My heart hammered in tune to Marvin’s stomping as he turned left down the hall; the clunking of his boots across the wooden floor sounded like a hammer nailing my coffin closed. It wasn’t until we got to the Cheif’s door did Marvin let go of my arm. Immediately, I rubbed the tender area, unsurprised at how red it turned.

Marvin couldn’t spare me a glance as the squeak of shoes down at the end of the hall caught our attention.

I thought Irons looked red-faced during the press meeting, but boy, he looked like a lobster now. I could almost see the steam coming off his head as he stormed over to us. “There you are!” He snarled. “I’ve had it with your nosey questions and taking over _my_ press meetings!”

I swallowed the panic in my throat. “Chief Irons, if I may. I’m just doing my job--”

“Your job?!” he screamed. Even Marvin took a step back. “Your job! You’re not a reporter, Miss. Frost. _You_ are a college student poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I let your misdoings and interference go before, but this is the last time! The reporters are having a field day down there after your little publicity stunt.”

A new bout of bravery hit me as I met his stare. “I’m just asking honest questions! This isn’t a normal case.”

His lip twitched, but instead of spitting out a response, he turned to Marvin a little bit more calmly. “Lieutenant, let Captain Wesker know I’ll be running a little late for our meeting. I need to finish up with her first.”

“Chief, I think she gets the point. Don’t you think you could let it go here? I’ll walk her out and make sure she stays out of the--”

“--No,” he interjected with a firm shake of his head. It is time I bring this incident up with her parents. _They_ can handle her afterwards.”

_Crap! If my parents find out, Joseph will find out, and he’ll know I lied to him, and he’ll spill the beans to my parents. Crap, crap, crap!_

“Chief Irons, please,” I begged. “I promise I won’t get in the way anymore. Just don’t contact my parents on the matter. I swear I’ll drop everything. You won’t hear from me ever again.”

It made me want to vomit, having to grovel to this sack of dog shit. He looked like he was enjoying it too, judging by the snarky look on his fat, sweaty face. I tried putting on my best pleading face, hoping to reach him. It was another minute before he finally nodded and jabbed a finger in my face.

“Fine. But mark my words, the next time I see you in my press room or hear that you’re on this case, your parents will find out when they get you from our _jail cell_.”

“Understood...sir.”

I jerked as Marvin tried to lead me away. Shrugging him off, I didn’t spare him a glance as I stormed down the hall and through the waiting room. My ears pounded in sync with my footsteps. I wanted to throw something against the wall--or at Irons’ face for that matter. This isn’t fair! I’m doing my job and asking him questions others have asked of him before. He’s a sly snake and a rat! A fat, useless pig--

\--My feet tripped over the last step as I spotted none other than my brother and Chris walking through the doors. Their laughter echoed over to me as Joe patted Chris over the shoulder. I darted to the side, hiding in the shadows as they passed by.

“...His face went all white when Barry whirled on him.”

“I know! He looked like he was going to shit himself…”

Their laughter trickled down my spine like a cold sweat. I didn’t dare to move from that spot until I couldn’t hear their footsteps any longer. Every last bit of anger washed out of me with a long sigh as I plopped my head against the column and stared off at where my brother disappeared. So many conflicting emotions swirled inside my gut, making my stomach churn.

_I’m going to figure out what the hell is going on around here...one way or another._

* * *

I stared down at the notes sprawled across the coffee table like an abstract painting. The drumming of my pen across the seat cushion sounded distant as I stared at the words written down. After my little incident at the RPD, I made a detour to the city hall to ask for blueprints on the Arklay Mansion that Chris told me about, but they didn’t have any.

_A fat lie, no doubt. I wonder if that was from Chief Irons’ doing?_

Dad’s humming trailed out from the kitchen. His head bobbed to the low tune of his radio, singing out his favourite band. Nothing about his demeanour seemed off. So it looks like Chief Irons hadn’t called my parents...that, or dad has become a really good actor.

Shaking my head, I turned back to my notes. The t.v murmured beside me, but I was only half-listening to the newscaster.

“Good, evening Raccoon City. It’s 6 p.m, Wednesday, June 3nd. I am Tara Delano. Today Chief Irons held a press meeting regarding the new body, now identified as Anna Mitaki, aged forty-two, discovered by two joggers at nine o’clock last night. Reports are stating that this _is_ indeed the fourth victim of these horrendous cannibal killings. Chief Irons didn’t say a lot during the press meeting, but one reporter sure had a lot to say to him.”

A cold sweat tickled at the back of my neck as I flicked my eyes to the screen. My stomach dropped as I stared at the video of me bombarding Irons with questions. _Oh, God..._

“Does she have any personal connections to the other victims?”

“No. As far as we’re aware, they have no connections.”

“Did a pack of dogs attack her? Is there any evidence showing that this was gang or drug-related? Perhaps a hideout in the mountain’s old estate?”

“It is undisclosed as to _what_ animal caused her death. We need an autopsy to determine that--”

“You haven’t had an autopsy done yet? Why is it taking this long?”

“Young lady, these things take time--”

“--And during this time, you still haven’t given us any answers as to what’s going on here. Can you answer that question? Why the long silence from your end?”

“I can only say so much during an active investigation. That is all the questions I can take at the moment. Excuse me.”

I snatched up the remote and cranked down the volume, and listened to make sure dad hadn’t heard anything. When the humming and sound of pots and pans being moved came through, I let my breath out. When his voice did sound out, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“You still watching that news network (F.N)? Why don’t you come set the table.”

“Ah--Sure!” I jumped up, turned the t.v off and plowed my way to the kitchen and grabbed the plates.

I set the plates down on the table with the forks, and as I turned to grab the glasses, that’s when I realized dad was no longer humming his song. When I turned, dad was openly staring. His hand froze over the pan of frying food, and his wide eyes were glued to my face. It lasted for a moment before I finally spoke up.

“You... OK?”

Shaking out of his trance, he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day where I can pull you away from the news station to set the table with telling you just once.” He placed a hand over my forehead. “You feelin’, alright? Not feverish. You must have something wrong with you--”

 _“Dad!_ ”

He pulled away and grabbed his wooden spoon, and began to stir the food. “I’m just teasing you...but maybe I should call the doctor just to be sure you don’t have anything wrong.”

“You dork. I just wanted to spend some time with you. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

He fixed me with a doubtful stare. “You saw me this morning.”

“I know, it--it just doesn’t feel like a lot, though.”

“Forget the doctor; I’m calling a psychiatrist! My daughter would rather spend time with-- _gasp!_ Her father rather than her own stories? Oh, the calamity!”

I couldn’t help it when my eyes rolled. Grabbing the glasses from the cupboard, I smiled. “Weirdo.”

“You’re one to talk, dearest offspring.”

“Nah, I got all the good genes from mom. Speaking of mom, what time is she coming home?”

His jaw twitched for half a second. He stirred the food with more energy, and his voice lost all its humour. “She said she wouldn’t be home for dinner...or tonight. I swear if she spends one more night at her desk, I’m going to go down there, drag her home and chain her to the couch.”

“Completely legal.”

“One-hundred percent.” His dark demeanour lifted, and his smile was back on his face, but it didn’t hold the same warmth as it did a moment earlier. “OK! Get your fork and plate. The chicken is ready.”

With a spring to my step, I grabbed my plate and filled it up with food and parked myself across from dad and dug in. I spared mom’s empty seat a moment’s thought before dad piped in.

“So, how is my little Louise Bryant? You’ve been out doing research for your story for some time now; how’s it coming?”

“It’s coming,” I spoke between forkfuls. “Still need to connect all the information, though. It still has some missing areas.”

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Nancy Drew.” His face perked up, and he shifted closer. “Hey, my schedule is free this weekend; why don’t you and I take out the ol’ fishing rod and head down to the lake for some fishin’?”

“Should we even be going out? Like, with all that’s been going on in the news?”

He flexed his arm and patted his bicep with a smirk. “With these bad boys? There ain’t nothin’ your old man can’t do.”

“Emphasise on _old_.”

“Hey! I’m like a young Wayne Gretzky.”

Instead of reminding him that he threw his back out the other week trying to lift a pale to the porch, I let him have his moment. “OK, dad. But I guess we can go fishing if you’re really up to being beaten by me again for the most fish.”

“Never happened. I always win. I just give you some of my fish to catch.” He sniffed and stuck a piece of carrot in his mouth.

“Sure thing, Gretzky.”

“I am very sure.”

The rest of the dinner went like that. Back and forth, we talked about everything. It was always so easy talking to dad, more than it ever was with mom. Dad got me; he understood everything I felt. He was the one that encouraged me to write and report. He was always there for me when I wanted to apply for my program.

_He is my hero._

* * *

“(F.N)?” He called over his shoulder as he placed the dishes in the dishwasher. “Don’t forget the bag by the stairs!”

I picked up the recycling bin and headed towards the door where the garbage bag was, like he said it would be, and slung it over my shoulder. “Got it!”

The late evening air settled over my hot skin as I hulled the bag down the driveway.

The neighbourhood was silent tonight. Odd. Usually, Taffy, the neighbour’s dog, would be yipping and barking at this time for his walk. After all these murder cases, people started to get paranoid. No one even wanted to step outside to grab their mail. Such a shame, the neighbourhood used to be so lively with the sounds of children playing and the old couple down the street always talking their evening stroll. Now, it was like a ghost town.

I didn’t pay it too much attention as I shifted the recycling bin to my hip and placed the garbage bag down. Right now, my biggest concern is making sure mom, dad, and Joseph don’t hear or see that press meeting video. Dad and mom won’t be a problem, but making sure Joseph doesn’t hear about it will be a problem. I hope Marvin will do something about it--

\--The garbage bag knocked into the recycling bin, sending all the stuff over the side and across the road. “Shit.” I cursed and started picking up the items one by one.

My foot crunched under the gravel of the road. My back hurt from bending over at an odd angle, and my arms were oddly damp from the liquids inside the garbage. I tried to hurry it up, but one plastic bottle got picked up by the wind and threw it down the street.

“Come on!” I groaned and started after it.

A gust of wind carried the bottle down the road, clunking and flicking around every time I reached for it, pushing it further away from my grasp. With one final pounce, I snatched it up in my fingers with a triumphant, _aha!_

As I spun around to toss it back into the bin, two blazing headlights blared across my face, blinding me to the spot. The car’s engine roared as it sped towards me; its tires squealed, and the tail end fishtailed as the driver cranked the wheel towards me--

\--My legs broke free of the trance and leapt to the side, landing over the garbage bag and knocking me into the driveway. The car hit the curb with a crash and sped off at top speed before taking the first right out of sight.

The smell of garbage wafted into my mouth as I gasped for air and tried to calm down my shaking body. My pulse pounded against my skin, and I could feel every hair and fibre on my body. I didn’t take my eyes off the road--even when the front door burst open, and dad’s panicked voice cried out for me.

“(F.N)! Are you OK?” His hand snaked over my shoulders, and his breath puffed out across my cheek.

“I’m fine. Just...tripped over the bags.”

“That car nearly hit you!” He yelled. “Bastard. Did you get his license plate number? I should call the police!”

At the mention of ‘police,’ I jumped to my feet and turned to face dad. “Call and say what? We don’t have any info.”

“Call and tell them a reckless driver is barreling down our road and nearly hit my daughter!” He threw his hands into the air. “Didn’t even stop or slow down to see if you were OK.”

I hugged him close, feeling his arms wrap around my back as he patted my head. “Don’t stress about it. I’m alright. Nothing is broken.”

“Well...come inside. Don’t mind the trash. I’ll take care of it later.”

I didn’t stop him from leading me back inside. It _was_ just an accident, right? But, that car...it was parked a few driveways away. But the lights weren’t on when I put the trash down. It was waiting for me?

_It sped up when it saw me get further into the street. It even aimed for me! What the hell is going on around here?_

I pushed the idea to the back of my head. I didn’t want to think about the possibility of, well, of anything. It was just an accident. The driver probably wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stop because he didn’t want to get charged.

_...or…_


	4. hidden in plain sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! glad to see you all here again! i hope you enjoy this chapter--it's a little longer! a lot happens in it so I do hope you enjoy. don't be afraid to point out any spelling errors, I won't take offence! lol other than that, enjoy and don't forget to like and comment!

**Monday morning, June 22nd**

The ringing of the phone jolted me out of a dead sleep and sent me flying out of my bed like a startled cat. I froze to the spot, ready to pounce at the slightest noise and still trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes when mom’s tired voice sounded up from her room next door.

“Hello?” She paused. “Y-yes. Speaking—”

I perked up and tiptoed over to my door to listen better when mom’s panicked voice cracked.

“What?”

Someone shifted in the bed, and I could hear Dad whispering while still half asleep. “What is it?”

The way he said those three words didn’t sit well with me.

“Yes! Yes, I can...yes I can come down…”

The cold hardwood soaked into the soles of my feet as I patted across the hall to mom and dad’s bedroom. Light from their lamp trickled out from the ajar door, and through the crack, I could see mom hunched over the side table with the phone glued to her ear.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there shortly,” she said and put the phone back down on the receiver.

Every worst possible scenario raced through my head as I shoved the door open. “What happened? Is joseph alright?”

Mom and dad’s eyes tore off each other and on to me. Dad just stared, while mom looked as if she was fighting back the tears. “That was the police station...they found a body.”

My heart stopped.

“What?” Dad whispered.

“They think it might be Deanne Rusch.”

All the air left my lungs in one awkward, “Huh?” Earning a glare from mom. “What? Joseph is ok?”

“Joseph is fine, but Margret is a mess right now. They have her at the station, but she is refusing to see the body for identification.

“So, why did they call us?” Dad asked, sitting up in bed and turning on the lamp beside him. I had the same question on my tongue too.

Mom shoved the covers off her and started sifting through her dresser. “Maggie’s family isn’t in Raccoon—only her mother, but she’s in the nursing home and not all there. They called her sisters, but it will take them at least a day before they get here, and the police need to I.D. the body as soon as they can. So, I guess she asked for me to come down and help her.”

The relief inside me didn’t last long. Joseph was safe, thank God. But poor Mrs. Rusch. I remember Joseph babysitting Deanne and me when we were little. She was a few years younger than me; we were still good friends.

My chest tightened, and my eyes hurt. “Can I come with you?”

Mom froze with one leg in her pants and the other in the air. “Wha—I don’t think you should—”

“Deanne and I were childhood friends...and Mrs. Rusch was always nice to me. I would feel awful for not being there for her now.”

Mom’s eyes flickered to dad; he shrugged his shoulders. “I gotta go in early today for work. It wouldn’t be bad to have (F.N) with you. I’ll stay back and call your work later and let them know of the situation.”

I held my breath as mom stared at me from across the room. At last, she sighed and resumed getting changed. “Ok.”

* * *

The hot coffee burned my lips and throat as I sat in the waiting area. It wasn’t the best coffee, but it kept me awake nonetheless. My attention shifted to the reception area where Leah usually sat, although it was still too early before she came in. Someone else sat behind the glass. The old man eyeballed mom and me since the moment we walked in and hasn’t let his guard down since. His beady eyes stared above the computer screen; the blue glow made him appear older as the harsh light caught every wrinkle and detail on his face.

It was only ten minutes, but it felt like a lifetime when the officer—who’s name I missed—came back.

“I’ll take you down to the morgue now. Mrs. Rusch is still asking for you. She calmed down a bit, but she still needs your help with I.D’ing the body.”

“That’s fine,” mom said. “Lead the way.”

With a curt nod, the police officer guided us through the hallway, passed the pressroom and through another room. My eyes wandered as we turned down yet another hallway that I never been down before.

Our shoes clunked across the old wooden floors while my eyes glanced out the windows at the sunrise peeking over the buildings. A yawn escaped my mouth before I could stop it as we reached a set of old stairs to a lower level.

Mom shifted beside me, her mask of indifference slipping as I spotted the wrinkles in the corner of her pursed mouth.

“It’s just down here,” the police officer said while descending the stairs. “This place used to be an old art museum. That’s why everything is so spread out around here.”

Dampness settled around me as soon as my foot hit the last step into the narrow hall. I wrapped my sweater closer to hold some of the warmth in and followed the officer down the narrow hall—

—Gunshots echoed off the walls, making me snap to attention. The officer didn’t say anything as we crossed the hall. People milled in and out of a room where the gunshots were the loudest. _Shooting range?_ More gunshots rang in the air and answered my assumption.

When we turned the last corner, another officer led a police dog, the same breed as back at the Eagles pet shop, out of a room. The officer moved to the side to allow us to pass; she patted the dog’s head as it woofed and wagged its stumpy tail as we passed by.

At the end of the hall, three people stood: a woman in a white lab coat, another officer I recognized as Rita Phillips from previous encounters and a shaking woman. The officer and the woman in the lab coat were busy talking to the shaking woman. Their low voices swept up a calming atmosphere as we neared, and that’s when I noticed the woman. Her usual soft brown eyes were red and blood-shot, and they widened when they spotted mom and me.

“Nancy!” She cried and fell into mom’s open arms to silently weep. “I can’t— _hick!_ Nancy, I don’t want to go in there. Don’t make me go in there—”

She shuddered when mom’s hands clamped down on her shoulders to give her a gentle shake. “Maggie, it’ll be alright. You’ll get through this. I’m coming in there with you.” Her eyes shifted over to me. “Look, (F.N) is here with me.”

Her brown eyes lifted to my face; the red rim around them was extremely noticeable under the harsh lighting. Just the sight of Mrs. Rusch made me want to break down with her. “I’m here, Mrs. Rusch.” My face pricked and tingled, and my voice cracked.

“Oh, (F.N)...I—” Her voice cut out, and she squeezed her eyes closed.

Gently, I approached and leaned in to hug her. No words needed to be exchanged; I didn’t know what to say at that moment, but she seemed happy with the silence. I let her stay like that for a few moments while the two officers, the lady in the white coat and mom stood off to the side.

“Ok Margaret,” mom whispered, “I know this is difficult—”

“Nancy, I can’t. I can’t.”

“I know, but none of you can move forward until you go in there. We won’t be able to know what happened and solve any of this unless we get through this.”

Mrs. Rusch was shaking her head. “It’s her! I already know it is. My little Deanne would never be out this late without me knowing. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.”

Mom gathered Mrs. Rusch at arm’s length and lowered her voice further. “I know Mags...but we gotta know for sure.”

“Can you do it?” The request came out as a crying plea.

Mom snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes were lost as she stared at the weeping woman. Slowly, her eyes lifted to me, asking for help.

I didn’t want to see it, but I didn’t want to see Mrs. Rusch break any more either. With a shaky breath, I nodded my head. “We’ll do it together.”

“Is that alright?” Mom asked the police officers beside us.

They gave a slight nod, and the older of the two spoke up. “As long as you have permission from the blood relative, it is. And seeing how distressed Mrs. Rusch is, it would be in her health’s best interests if you did it.”

“I’ll do it then. (F.N)—”

“It’s ok, mom...I want to.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I would rather you not have to live with that.”

“She was my friend. It’s only right I do this for her.”

The smell was the first thing I noticed as I stepped inside the room. It laid under the overwhelming scent of antiseptic, but I could still smell it—even taste it in the back of my mouth. It accentuated the washed out, grey room to the fullest. The fluorescent lights hummed and flickered above.

The white coat technician glided around the metal table and stopped in front of a small metal door in the wall. Eleven of these little doors filled the room on both sides. The door creaked as she opened it and slid out the metal gurney from inside. The white sheet covered it...the body. Laying under that sheet was a dead body. Why was I only realizing it now?

I drew back from my confused thoughts at the sound of a gentle swish as the technician pulled the sheet away from the body’s face—

—My skin prickled as I stared at the body. The woman—if that was what it was—was mangled beyond recognition. Remnants of ivory skin poked out from under the blood and gore, and what _was_ left of her skin was chewed and ripped with teeth marks. Only one eye was visible under...everything; it stared straight up at the lights with a white film streaked across it, but I could still make out the gentle brown to it, just like her mother’s. The clothing was ripped to shreds from what I could see, and something metal was around her neck. It dug inside the blood and gaping wounds—

—I turned away, unable to look any longer. I wanted to hurl, cry and scream all at once. I was tired but awake at the same time. The male officer’s hands rested on my shoulders as I backed into him. His voice was gentle as he spoke. “Michelle, I think that’s good.”

The technician in the coat nodded and covered the body back up, and closed the door before turning to mom and me.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at the metal door in absolute disbelief.

_That is Deanne Rusch’s body._

“Well?” The woman—Michelle—said.

“I...uh...w-well…” mom’s voice trailed off.

I managed to tear my eyes off the door to meet mom’s stare. Her face was sheet white, and her eyes were rounded like plates. Her mouth hung slack as she turned to me with a lost look in her eyes.

“That’s the necklace Christopher bought her for graduation last year,” I finally mumbled out.

“Are you sure?” Michelle asked with furrowed brows.

“Yes. She showed it to me.”

The officer and Michelle shared a glance before the woman moved over to the table and plucked up some files and flipped through them. “Hm, the dental records showed similarities with her molars...the rest of her teeth aren’t salvageable for identification.”

“I’ll write it in,” the officer stated and turned to mom and me. “Thank you for your help. We’ll have to inform Mrs. Rusch now. Having both of you there might help her accept the news.”

“Of course.” was the only words mom could utter before being led out of the room.

Everything after that was a blur. Mrs. Rusch’s scream bounced off of me. And my legs wouldn’t move as mom struggled to pick her up off the ground. I remember feeling nothing but a deep-rooted coldness and the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I finally understood what it meant to stare at someone and think, ‘they’re broken, and they can’t be put back together.’

* * *

The newly turned earth squished under my pinchy heels as I stood beside the grave. The sound of my mom and Mrs. Rusch’s sister trying to console the broken woman carried over to me. I turned my eyes away from the grave to see how she was doing.

The poor woman was hardly keeping it together. A few times during the service, I was worried she would try and jump into her daughter’s grave. She was a broken woman. Lost to the world and left behind at the morgue. She hasn’t said much since the morning we identified the body—I mean Deanne. She said a few words here-and-there, but nothing more than a ‘thank you’ or a ‘no, thank you.’

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but it wasn’t because I was cold. My eyes scoured every face around me; most were staring at the grave or trying to calm down the crying babies—

—At the far side of the graveyard where the trees swayed in the wind, stood a black figure cloaked in the shadows. I couldn’t make out any facial features, but I _knew_ he was staring at me. When I locked on to him, his shoulders stiffened, and he backed away behind the tree. Slowly, he cloaked himself in the shadows and eased himself around some tombstones—

—I jumped when a hand clasped my shoulder and dad gathered me close to him and kissed the top of my head. “How you holdin’ up, kiddo?”

“Fine...is the service over?” I blinked around. People were quietly murmuring to each other and making their way back to their vehicles.

“Yeah. Mom is just helping out Fiona—Mrs. Rusch’s sister—with Margaret into her car.” He sighed. “Poor woman.”

My attention flung back over to the trees, but the cloaked figure was gone. I scanned the area for any sign of him, but couldn’t find him. _Who was that?_

“C’mon squirt, let’s head to the car.”

There were so many conflicting thoughts and emotions inside me. Hurt. Fear. Confusion. So much of it tied back to Deanne’s body. The news didn’t say _what_ killed Deanne and her boyfriend, only that their wounds are similar to the previous victims, but they won’t know if it was by an animal or a human.

_The gashes on her face and throat looked so deep—too deep to be made by humans…_

The reports did say the both of them went to Victory lake in search of the reported “dog creatures” that witnesses keep reporting around the area. Is that what it was? Dogs?

* * *

**Friday, June 26th**

The list crinkled in my hand as I shoved it into my jean pocket along with the money dad left for me on the kitchen table. His frantic voice still rang in my ears as he threw his lucky jacket on and ran out the door and into work, leaving me to gather the necessary tools he needed to help fix the leak in the bathroom.

It’s been only a day since the funeral of Deanne Rusch, and not a moment goes by without remembering her state. I squeezed my eyes shut and commanded that memory away as I locked the front door behind me and reached into the mailbox to grab today’s mail—

—One letter slipped out of my hand and plopped on my shoe. The messy handwriting on the front caught my attention as it was addressed to me. Curious, I read the front, but there was no return address listed, and the handwriting didn’t look familiar. I tore the letter open and read through the messy note.

_To Miss. (F.N) Frost,_

_Please, I beg of you, listen to what I have to say, for your life is in danger. I can’t say much in this letter in case they get their hands on it, but trust me when I tell you that you have to watch your back. Your nosey questions with Chief Irons on the investigation of the cannibal killers made you a lot of dangerous enemies. If you don’t watch your back, they’ll make you disappear just like what they did to me._

_You’re onto more than you know, but it’s too late to tell you to leave it alone. They have their eyes on you now, and they won’t take them off you until you’re dead. You’re right to believe there is more to these cases than the R.P.D. is letting on. It’s not a cult or drug dealers as our leaders keep saying. There is a lot of corruption going on behind the scenes. I want to help you expose it to the world, but I fear I don’t have much time left. I’ll send a separate letter with details of where and when we should meet._

_In the meantime, watch your back,_

_B._

The air blew through me as I stared at the letter. I read it over and over again, trying to make sense of what was written on it. My hands shook, and my legs were numb—

—And that’s when I noticed the car parked across the road. A black streak painted the bumper’s front side from where it hit the curb a few weeks ago. The windows were tinted, giving me no clear sight of who was inside, but they were watching me. I know they were.

Gripping the letter tighter, I sprang from the front deck and raced around the side of the house. The sound of car doors slamming shut propelled me forward as I ran through the backyard and took off down the old trail I used to use as a kid to get to the park.

My heart hammered in my ears, and my throat burned as I tried to catch my breath. I didn’t dare slow down, not for one moment. I jumped the small stream, climbed over the old wooden fence and stumbled out into the family park. Some people gave me weird looks, but I ignored them as I pushed forward and jogged across the park and only began to slow down when I hit the main streets.

Strangers passed me by without a second glance; they milled about in their little world, while mine was shaken to its core.

Every few steps, I tossed a nervous glance over my shoulder, seeing if I could make out that car or see any out of place strangers—

“Woah—” Hands latched on to my shoulders and shoved me back. The startled look on Chris’ face matched my own as I steadied myself. His hands dropped back to his side, and he eased back a step with a smirk. “We really gotta stop meeting like this.”

My laugh and smile were strained and forced. “Yeah? No kidding. Sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“I can tell.” Amusement twinkled in his grin as it stretched higher on his face, but it quickly faltered. “Are you alright? You look a little spooked. See a ghost or something?”

“Or something.” I half-joked.

As quickly as it came, his suspicions eased, and his lax airs returned. “You going to visit your brother right now?”

“No, I’m running some errands.” I punctuated the point by digging out the list of tools dad left for me. “Just need to go to the hardware store.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Oh? What for?”

“Our bathroom has a leak in it somewhere, and my dad had to run off to work before he could pick up the tools himself. So I’m doing it for him.”

“Need a hand?”

His casual offer of help threw me off. Breaking away once more from my fruitless search for my perpetrators, I turned my full attention onto him. The odd look on his face was out of place like he was inspecting something. “Wh—you don’t have to do that.”

“It’ll make it go by faster.” His smile brightened his whole face and made it difficult to turn down.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Not necessarily. I was just taking a walk to clear my mind.”

“Um, o...k then.”

The employee’s friendly greeting chimed across the entrance as I stepped inside the hardware store with Chris beside me. The prominent smell of fertilizers, chemicals and wood hit my nose and made me sneeze.

“Can I see your list?” Chris asked, pointing to the paper in my clasped hands.

Silently, I handed it over and observed as his eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth pressed into a hard line. He looked much different from the side. Much more...mature? Rugged? Intimidating? With his angled nose and square jaw and forehead.

“Pipe fitting...elbow ninety degrees,” Chris was mumbling to himself. “That would be...down here.”

He turned down an aisle, dragging his fingers across the tags until he paused in front of one. He plucked up a piece of pipe and checked it at every angle before handing it to me. “The sealant your dad wrote down isn’t the greatest.” He plucked up a can of something and gave it to me. “This one works better, and it’s slightly cheaper.”

“You sure know your stuff,” I said while following him down the isles and watching him as he checked the list and redirected himself.

“My dad used to work on construction sites and help out with repairs and installments. He taught me a lot of hands-on skills when I was younger.”

“Oh, cool!”

His lips curled into a tight smile as we headed towards the checkout. “Yeah...after my parents died, it really came in handy around the house. Of course, my little sister wanted to learn to, so I taught her a few things. She’s stubborn like that; never wanted to be left out.”

The items in my arms grew heavy, and my movements became more deliberate. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“Don’t worry about it. It happened years ago.” He waved me off and shifted beside me. He grabbed the items out of my arms, placing them on the counter while I stared at the side of his face. His smile slackened, but there was still a tightness to the edges of it. With my bags in his hands, he nodded to the lady and started for the doors.

“You don’t have to do that! I got the bags.” I gasped and caught up to him, but he moved his hands out of the way when I tried to reach for the bags.

“Don’t worry. I got—Ah!”

I flew back as two kids on their bicycles sped in front of us and making Chris drop the bags at his feet. Their giggles grew fainter as they sped up.

“Hey!” Chris yelled, shifting his attention to the spilled bags at his feet and the backs of the kids.

Laughter built up in my chest until I couldn’t hold it back anymore, and I doubled over. The wide-eyed stare from Chris only served to make me laugh harder. “I’m s-s-sorry...I don’t mean to laugh—” I cleared my throat. “Just the look on your face was priceless.”

With every bout of laughter that escaped, his cheeks grew redder. Swooping down, he plucked up the bags and shook his head. “Damn kids. Should watch out where they’re going. Sorry about dropping your things; I hope everything’s’ ok.”

I was already shaking my head as he shifted through the bags. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything’s good. Thank you again. It helped me out greatly. I probably would have still been stuck on the first item if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, in any case, glad I could help.” He checked his watch and let out a long breath. “Guess I better be heading out. Keep an eye out when you walk home. Seems to be a dangerous area.”

I returned his teasing remark with a grin. “Seems like it. Crazy drivers and out of hand, kids. What a terrible place to be.”

His grin fell, and his eyes grew dark. A hint of worry touched his voice. “Well, with what keeps splashing on the news, it’s turning out to be. I’m serious, be careful on your way home.”

“You sound like my brother. In any case, I will. Thank you.”

“See you around.”

“Bye.” I waved him off as he turned around and started across the street.

I took one step but froze when I heard a _clink_ under my foot. Under my foot, something shiny twinkled up at me. On closer inspection, it was an _odd-looking_ key. I picked it up and examined it. It looked like a...club—

—My head flung up and scanned the area for any sign of Chris, but he was already gone.

_I’ll give it back to him the next time I see him, or maybe later, I can stop by the R.P.D. and drop it off?_

_...Or…_

The key felt heavy in my hands as I gazed down at it again. The weird club shape at the top was like deja-vu.

_I recognize this symbol from somewhere, but where was it—The R.P.D.!_

Ideas spun around my head, flipping back and forth like a ball on a tennis court. Images of Deanne came to mind, the case and the missing information and of course, the letter.

_You’re right to believe there is more to these cases than the R.P.D. is letting on._

The key grew cold and heavy in my hand—as if it already knew what I was going to do.

Placing the key into my pocket, I turned down the sidewalk and shifted through my thoughts and still keeping one eye scanning the area. “The R.P.D., huh?”

* * *

Saturday morning rolled around fast, and my head still spun from yesterday’s events. My walk home was uninterrupted, and there was no sign of that car or those people again. But still, I can’t let go of what happened yesterday.

I tucked the letter back into my notebook and eased across the hall where mom and dad’s door was closed. As softly as I could, I eased the door open. Mom’s snores sounded out as I padded towards her closet, grabbed the skirt and blazer that I was looking for, quickly shut the door behind me, and headed back to my room.

I buttoned up mom’s work blazer and fixed the blouse I had underneath before making my way towards the bathroom where dad was working. If I were correct, he’d be too busy to notice my outfit.

“Dad,” I stopped by the open door, making sure to keep my body out of sight. “I’m just heading out to do some errands. I’ll be a little while.”

His face contoured as he fought and yanked at the old pipe in the shower. “Ok. Mom still sleeping?”

“Yep. Ok! Heading out now. Bye!” I hurried across the hall and shoved my feet into my shoes, and took off.

As soon as I was out of the house, I let out the breath I was holding and fixed my hair. _Perfect. Now, I can start my investigation._

I tapped the pocket with the key nestled safely inside and reached for the car keys. As soon as I was done with it, I could slip it in the S.T.A.R.S.’s office and leave it on his desk.

_Get in, get out—no funny business. Just get the information and leave._

My body tingled with adrenaline as I started dad’s car and made my way down to the R.P.D.

The morning light shined down on the R.P.D., accentuating the old building’s gothic architecture as I started up the front steps. Officers puttered by, drinking their morning coffees and talked about mundane things. I fixed mom’s skirt, ironing out the wrinkles and clipped on my school press pin to the front of my shirt as I opened the front doors and started towards the front desk security.

The security guard looked bored as he sat staring at his screens. When I paused at his desk, he dragged his eyes up to my face, but not before putting on my school press pin. “Morning. What’s the purpose of your visit today?”

“‘Morning. I’m just here to interview Rita for a school story I got going on.” It wasn’t the best cover, but it was the best one I could think of on the drive up here.” I bit my lip as I waited for his response.

“She won’t be in until a little later—she got caught up doing some reports. You’re free to have a seat in the waiting area in the meantime.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him and casually started towards the waiting area.

The R.D.P on the weekend was a lot different than during the week. There were still the rowdy arrested individuals, but the overall station was quieter.

The S.T.A.R.S. office is my best bet for finding evidence. I need a way to get there without the security guard noticing, but how? The way to the S.T.A.R.S. office is up the stairs and through the library. He’ll see me—

—Loud voices shook the inside of the station. Thunderous footsteps pounded down the hall where angry voices accompanied them.

My head poked out of the waiting area, trying to glimpse what was going on. That’s when I noticed three people emerging from the opposite hallway: two people I knew, but one I didn’t.

“Kevin, man, you got to get your act together.” Marvin tried to reason, but Cheif Irons wouldn’t let him finish.

“I should have you fired! Terminated!” His face beat red as he screamed at the stone-faced man in his R.P.D. uniform.

The security guard paused to take in the scene; a smirk touched his lips as he tried to hide a snicker. While he was distracted, I took the chance and made my way across the room and towards the stairs.

“Chief,” Marvin spoke calmly. “Kevin is a strong cop and good at what he does. This is just one fuck-up. Can’t we let—”

“A fuck up?” I heard Chief Irons grunt, but I didn’t want to chance to turn around to witness the scene. “Having alcohol on the job site is a high offence in the police force! What else can I let them get away with?”

My feet reached the top of the stairs. As I turned to go down the corridor, I made eye contact with Marvin from where I stood—

— _Shit!”_

His eyes narrowed, but they quickly shifted back on to Chief Irons as he ripped him a new one. It was my lucky break.

I picked up my speed and all but fell through the library door and made my way through the lounge.

It wasn’t until I turned the corner to the S.T.A.R.S.’ main office did I freeze. Coming out of the office were three members of S.T.A.R.S. I recognized from Bravo team. Cold sweat trailed down my spine.

_Hide._

The only place to hide was the linen room. Acting fast, I tucked myself behind the door, listening as their voices carried in front of the door and into the lounge. My heart hammered in my ears as I waited for the sound of the lounge door to shut before attempting to peek out.

The empty hall was a calming sight to see. The Bravo members’ voices grew distant as they strolled into the library area. I finally let myself breathe.

“Gotta keep moving before they come back,” I uttered and started towards the S.T.A.R.S. door—more cautiously than ever.

The wood grain was gritty on my ear as I listened for any voices from inside. It sounded awfully quiet in there—

—My hand paused over the doorknob. On closer inspection, I realized there was a symbol decorating the knob. It looked like...a diamond?

The key in my pocket tingled as I put together the doorknob symbol, and the symbol on the key looked similar. Yanking it out of my pocket, I confirmed that it was, indeed, similar—but not the same symbol. Taking a chance, I opened the door, happy to realize it was unlocked and empty.

Navy blue decorated the office walls. Desks and stacks of boxes cluttered the majority of the room. I chanced a step inside, making sure no one was at one of the desks. On the right wall, some sort of communications area was set up. It looked like the room was empty...for now.

_In and out—no funny business._

I noticed the office door to my left; I tried the key in the lock, but it didn’t fit.

“Crap. I still got the desks, I guess.”

The first desk I tried was Joe’s desk. Just like his apartment, it was cluttered, and everything was strewn about. Typical. My chest tightened as I skimmed through the papers on his desk. This was nothing like when we were kids, and I broke into his room to steal one of his cassettes; this was much worse. The thoughts haunted me every time I checked a desk, no matter how much I shoved it to the back of my mind. It was wrong. It felt _wrong._

Chris’ desk was much like my brothers’, and just like Joe’s desk, my chest tightened into a knot, and my eyes kept shifting around as if they already knew what I was doing. My fingers brushed along some of the files Chris had on his desk and skimmed what they said. I recognized his writing and what was mentioned—

— _They’re his thoughts and assumptions for the case. He told me some of this already. Cults. Dogs. Drugs. Nothing new._

The other desks turned up the same thing. When I got to the last desk, I found what appeared to be blueprints to a place laid out. I skimmed them over, and my finger froze over the title in the top corner. _Spencer Mansion._

“These are the blueprints I’ve been searching for!” Quickly, I dug inside my purse and yanked out the camera I brought and started taking photos of the layout for further investigation. I skimmed them over, reading every detail I could. The location fits in with what Chris told me, and it is a high possibility that it is being used as a hideout for the killer—or killers.

I didn’t have much time here, and I had to hurry.

My attention kept shifting towards the door. Every creak and sound made me jump out of my skin. _There was nothing left to search through in here._ Once again, my mind shifted to the key in my pocket. The club didn’t match up with any of the doors in here or in the hallway. So, where does it fit then?

A cold sweat formed in my palms as I realized what I would have to do next.

Investigating the S.T.A.R.S. office was one thing; exploring the main floor was a different matter entirely. There was a bigger chance of me being found out. But it was my only option at the moment.

Sneakily, I closed the door behind me and started down the other way. I know there is an alternate entrance on my right that leads through the shower room. Thank God no one was inside, or that could have been a fun conversation to have.

My head swayed. Tiptoeing out of the locker room, I descended the stairs behind the offices and through the west hallway. I kept my head down as two officers passed me in the hall while coming out of their office. One gave me a lewd stare as our eyes locked for a moment, making my skin crawl. I hurried along the corner and kept going until I reached the West hallway.

My disguise seemed to be working fine...a little _too_ fine. I shook it off and kept going. My feet were already aching from the pinchy shoes, and a thin layer of sweat soaked my face. My shoulders sagged as I turned the hall and noticed how far down it went.

_This place is massive!_

The sound of my shoes clicking across the tiles echoed off the windowed wall and the empty hall. That’s when a door came into view. Slowing down, I studied the doorknob and felt the pull of my lips over my teeth as the key slipped inside, and the lock clicked. With one final glance around to make sure no one was there, I slipped inside.

The smell of mildew and paper filled the air as I stepped inside. Boxes lined the shelves from floor to ceiling. The tags on each box had _evidence_ scrawled across it, giving me more hope. Quickly, I shifted around the shelves, searching for the boxes or files for the case—

—my hand froze over a few boxes named _cannibal killings._ They were large boxes—and heavy!

I sat one down on the table in the corner and popped open the lid. Clothing in plastic bags filled the top with red tape holding it closed. Lifting it to the light, it was evident that the clothing was in bad shape. Large chunks of it were missing, and the part that was there was shredded and torn with red blotches and other substances staining it. The haphazard way the clothes were ripped didn’t give me the impression that a knife or weapon had done this.

_Animals?_

I grabbed another box and opened it up. The evidence in this one was the autopsies and reports from witnesses. I skimmed over the autopsies first and sucked in a breath as I studied the pictures over.

There was hardly anything left of the bodies. Their mangled limbs looked more like strips of fabric than arms and legs, and a torso and head—

—I placed the photos back and grabbed the reports out.

_The victim was a 42-year-old female with no history of medical issues. The body shows extensive damage to the face and torso, and the organs have been partially removed. The body shows signs of being partially eaten. Bite marks and tear consistency matches human teeth and jaw. A saliva sample was taken from damaged tissue._

_Cause of death: blood loss and extensive organ damage from humans._

I recognized the victim as Anna Mitaki from June 2nd.

I pulled out another report. This one was marked as _the first victim—roughly_ a twenty-year-old woman. The date said May 20th. The photo given made me wince. Her body was waterlogged, and her foot was missing, not to mention the state of her upper body was beyond recognizable. The report said the possible cause was a grizzly bear attack, but I doubted that—

—Under that report, the words, ‘ _aggressive dogs?’_ were scribbled next to ‘grizzly bear.’ Hinting that even the police figure it wasn’t a grizzly bear that did this.

My memory swirled back to that interview with the gentleman. He mentioned something about dog-like creatures—he referred to them as demons from hell. Maybe he was on to something.

More reports talked about the other killings: the family of three were savagely murdered while camping. A lot of their organs were missing—

—My eyes froze over the police report written down. They determined the bite marks on the body are of _human origin_. And even during the autopsy, they found human flesh was present in both their digestion systems. They suspected they _consumed_ each other. _A third party, maybe?_

Other victims died of powerful bites to the neck, blood loss—even many animals’ carcasses were found up in the mountains. But it was the final written report that sent a chill up my spine. Reports of people covered in blood walking through the forest when the victim’s body was reported but disappeared later during the investigation when police searched.

The other reports read the same: human bite marks and mutilated bodies. What was helpful was the location of the bodies written down on the map provided in the box. They were scattered, but most of the bodies were found in Victory Park. A good place to start an investigation—

—The blood in my veins froze as the doorknob jiggled from someone on the other side. My breath hitched, and I dropped the reports on the table. There was nowhere to hide in here! My heart pounded in my ears, and my body refused to move—

“Leah—” The masculine voice at the door called out. The doorknob stopped jiggling, and I heard his feet shuffle.

“...Called you...said it is urgent.” I heard Leah say.

“Crap... ok. I’ll be right there.” The masculine voice finished it off by locking the door. The sound of his heavy footsteps boomed down the hallway in sync with my racing heart.

I collapsed into the chair and sucked in a few breaths while trying to calm down my shaking hands.

_That was too close. I need to get out of here._

I shoved everything back inside the boxes and placed them back on the shelf. Quietly, I cracked open the door and stuck my head out into the hall, checking for anyone.

Down the hall, a few voices grew closer. Not wanting to chance it, I slipped into the hall, locked the door and started back up to the S.T.A.R.S. office, where I left the key on Chris’ desk and got the hell out of there.

It wasn’t until I cut the engine in my driveway that I finally allowed myself to take a full breath and melt into the driver’s seat. The events of today swirled in my head and nestled in my stomach where it sat like heavy lead.

Slowly, I eased out of the car on my raw feet and made my way up the steps. The first thing I did was slip off my shoes. The sigh of relief escaped me, and my feet rejoiced.

_Why do women wear those things anyway?_

There was so much I needed to go over, but first, I needed something to eat to power my brain for the long night ahead of me. I hobbled over to the kitchen and zeroed in on the fridge.

I was in the middle of warming up leftovers when the doorbell chimed. “I got it!” I yelled up to dad and pulled open the door—

—No one was there. Arching up a brow, I stepped outside, checking the area for anyone, but no one was there. A deep chill eased over my body, shaking me to the core. It was the same feeling I got back at the funeral—

—My foot crinkled as I moved. A letter was sandwiched under my foot. Curious, I plucked it up and turned it over—It was addressed to me! The writing seemed oddly familiar.

Forgetting my food on the counter, I hurried upstairs and to my room, where I plopped down at my desk and flipped open my notebook where I kept the first letter. Like I thought, the writing was the same. Ripping it open, I skimmed the short letter.

_Sorry for the delay, but I was worried about those men on your tail that this letter wouldn’t reach you. Like I said before, I can’t say a lot in this letter in case it falls into the wrong hands. You must hurry! Things are escalating, and I don’t know how much time we have left! You saw, didn’t you? You saw those photos of those victims. You know something is going on, and I know what it is. Please, meet me at the location provided below. I think you’ll find what I have to share quite useful._

_B._

_P.S._

_I would recommend arming yourself when you come up. The forests aren’t safe here, and you’ll need all the help you can get._

The back of the letter was a crudely drawn map with directions to an area in Victory Park.

This whole thing didn’t sit right. Who was this person, and how does he know I went to the R.P.D.?

A deep chill set into my bones.

_Are they the people in the car that have been following me? Is this a trap?_

Something else fell out of the envelope. It looked like an article cut out from a newspaper. Picking it up, I turned it over and stared at the photo. It was an old article, at least a few months old.

 _‘Plane crashes in the Great Lakes. No survivors’_ the title read. The words “No survivors” were circled in a red pen. _Why?_

The face staring back at me was of a young man not much older than me. Under the photo said his name was Billy Rabbitson.

_...Could it be possible—_

“—(F.N)? What are you—is that my skirt and blazer?” Mom’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.

“O-Oh, mom? When did you wake up? Yeah...I had...an interview, and all my good clothes were dirty.”

Her pyjamas hung off her lean figure; She has to learn to eat better. I know work is hard, but she still needs to eat. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she straightened up and stretched. “That’s fine. Your father still working on that damn leak?”

As if on cue, dad’s curses fumbled out of the bathroom, followed by a loud bang.

Mom shook her head with a sigh. “I better go check on him. Just hang up my skirt when you’re done with it.”

I waited until she was gone before reading over the letter and article. I know the article; I remember reading it in the paper earlier this year. It says the plane was carrying employees of Umbrella to their main offices in Chicago. However, the plane never made it there, and it crashed in the Great Lakes.

I only noticed then that there was another article lodged inside the envelope. This one was an article by Raccoon Weekly from a few days ago. The title caught me off guard’ _Monsters in Arklay Mountain?’,_ it mentioned sightings of packs of wild dogs or dog-like creatures. They say the dogs are fierce and very hard to hurt. There were some scribbled words over a short article taped to the back of it about a victim found by the riverbank with portions of his flesh eaten and the presence of carcasses of wild birds and hares beside it. It also mentioned eyewitnesses spotting a person covered in blood. The word _person_ was circled in red with a question mark beside it.

There is no doubt in my mind anymore; this person, whoever they are, is trying to help me.

Carefully, I folded the letter, the article and everything else away and hid it in my notebook for safekeeping. Satisfied with that, I slipped out of my disguise and returned mom’s skirt and blazer to her closet.

I passed by the unmade bed and threw the closet doors open, searching for a hanger to hang the clothes on.

My fingers brushed across mom’s outfits in the closet, feeling the softness of each one as I pushed them to the side and hung up the skirt—

—A strange smell wafted from one of mom’s shirts. It smelt like cologne, but not the one dad ever wears. _It must just be from one of the guys at work._

_The photos on my camera needed to be developed. Maybe later today, I’ll run down to the store and get them done. I need that blueprint on it. I need to study it and…_

_And? And what?_

I shut the closet doors and patted back to my room with that thought unfinished.


	5. The Shack

The crunch of twigs sounded underfoot as I kept up with the park trail. I slicked the back of my hand across my sweaty brow, enjoying the moment's relief the overhanging branches provided and kept up the pace. This week the humidity has been torture, but it hasn't stopped me from exploring the park.

The map crinkled in my hands as I rechecked the location. I found the 'X' on the map and checked my surroundings before nodding my head to ensure that I was at the correct spot. Kneeling in the grass, I took it all in. This is where the family of three was found. I remember the report; their bodies were found at their campsite—mutilated. Their organs...removed. Human saliva inside them—

My feet squished under the layers of dead pine needles as I probed the area for clues. This week I've been keeping myself busy with the case files and locating the spots where the victims were found. I couldn't sit at home; it just makes me think. My mind runs wild with crazy thoughts, thoughts I don't want to imagine. The letters were another thing I don't want to think about. No matter how I feel about it, nothing makes sense.

Is the writer of the letters trying to help me, or just trying to throw me off? Are they the guys from the car incidents?

_So many questions, and yet no answers._

I whipped the stick across the campsite with a huff and started down the trail once more, searching for the other locations.

By the time I reached the nest location, the sun had long passed the sky's midpoint and started to descend.

Gentle waves lapped at the water's edge while I enjoyed the fresh breeze blowing across my hot skin while I studied the river for clues. I hadn't a clue for what to look for; these crime scenes have been swept over countless times by professionals, not to mention that some of these cases are months old now.

The shadows started to grow longer across the ground, and the midday heat began to cool off into the late afternoon. The birds' songs sang out above and squirrels rustled through the trees and underbrush. Dusting off my hands, I stood up from the old dock I was examining and shoved them onto my hips.

A grizzly bear attacked the woman in the case file, but I didn't come up with anything after a quick check of the area. _It could be a one-off, though. Maybe the wrong place at the wrong time?_

I started walking the water's edge, shifting through the long, wiry reeds to see if anything was hiding inside. Mud splashed over my hiking boots as I pulled my foot free with a grunt. The report crossed out _'grizzly bear'_ and changed it over to _'wild dogs'_...but I haven't seen any signs of either of those. My hand laid over the top of the pistol I had attached to my hip. It was dad's, but I don't think he'd mind if he knew where I was. Regardless of what the letter said, I knew just from all the attacks going on around here that it would be better to arm myself than not. Can't take any chances—

A stick snapped, startling me. Whipping around with my hand clamped over the hilt of the pistol, I let out a nervous laugh when nothing was there. But my laughter didn't last long. The birds' songs ceased, and even the squirrels raced up the trees to sound off a loud alarm. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my legs began to shake. Slowly, I shifted a step behind and fixed my eyes ahead. Nothing stood out in the trees or shrubs, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. Staring. Waiting—

"Ah!" My foot slipped down the drop, sending me crashing. The cold of the water seeped into my bones and snuffed out any heat I had left inside me.

With an irritated growl, I yanked myself out of the dirt and water and plopped down on a large rock. My body from the thighs down was soaked right through and dirtied with mud. "Ugh!" The slick suction sounded out as I stood up.

The forest around me was dead quiet; even the rushing water didn't seem to have a sound. Dark shadows hung off the edges of everything, merging them into one blurred shape. Still, I could feel something watching me—

At the base of my feet, something laid in the mud. I nearly overlooked it, but I could spot it thanks to the shoelace caught in the current. Carefully, I reached my hand in the shallow water and dug around in the mud until my hand wrapped around something semisolid. The suction from the mud slurped as I yanked the object free.

Mud covered it, but I was able to make out the tongue of the hiking boot. It was heavy and waterlogged. I wiped it down, grabbing handfuls of mud off and reaching inside the shoe—

—My hand came back with a start when the awful smell hit me. It was like...like—

—The white tip of the bone poked through the black vile—which may have been flesh at one point. Putrid pus and other liquid oozed from the mound and down the shoe. I dropped it with a start and jerked away. The severed foot splattered in the mud; the water's current nudged it into the reeds where it stayed. I stared at the object, unsure of what to make of it.

A twig behind me snapped, throwing me into a panic as I hurried up the slope with a start. A lumbering black shape poked through the shadows with a disgusting stench. With a scream, I took off in the opposite direction. Branches, twigs and more slapped me in the face as I ran away. My heart pounded through every vein in my body as I scrambled over the hills.

I didn't slow down until I reached the main trail where I had my bike parked. Jumping on it, I rushed out of there and started home. The sun was already at its lowest point and just barely poking over the mountains as I turned down the main street.

The mud on my hands long dried and now pulled taut over my knuckles as I squeezed the breaks. A jarring _clank!_ Followed by the wobble of my wheels had me pulled over and skidding to a stop. My useless chain dangled and whacked against my calf as I stepped off the bike to inspect the damage.

"Shit," I cursed and knelt for a better inspection.

The chain wasn't damaged—thank God—but it came loose and needed to be readjusted.

The chill in the air started to settle in as the long summer night began. The streets were clear of people, like a ghost town. The street lights above hummed and flickered while moths fluttered into its bright beams. The odd whoosh of a car passing sounded behind me, and the restaurants' smell made my stomach growl.

Grease coated my already filthy hands as I propped the chain up and snapped it back into place. Just looking at my hands made me want to vomit. _When I get home, I'm scrubbing them until they're red!_

I found the severed foot of the first victim—I really should tell the authorities about that. Joseph's name flickered across my mind, but I immediately shrugged it off. If I told him, he'd figure out what I was doing and lay into me. Chris is out of the question; it would seem suspicious after the whole key incident thing. Marvin, maybe—

—The clang of a can being kicked across the concrete snapped me to my feet. My nerves were strung tight as I stared down the darkened alley in front of me. For a split second, it looked like a shape was shifting in the shadows, followed by a deep groan. I grabbed hold of my handlebars and clamped my mouth shut.

The figure in the shadows wobbled and stumbled around with a moan here and there. My shoulders eased, and my head swayed.

_Drunk. Don't they know when enough is enough?_

Forgetting about riding, I fell into step beside my bike and continued on foot until I reached home.

_Marvin would be the best option, but he'd still be royally pissed at me—but semi-happy that I came forward and found something._

It was a thought I'd sit on. In the meantime...I want to take a shower and relax.

* * *

"I'm home!" I called out and carefully removed my dirty shoes, and started towards the stairs when raised voices sounded out from mom and dad's room.

"This needs to stop! How much longer is this going to go on?" Dad's voice sounded strained as if they've been at it for hours.

Trying to ignore it, I tiptoed into my room to pull out a pair of my pyjamas.

"Work has been busy, Michael! It's not my fault we can't keep people on."

"Nancy, this is ridiculous! You're pulling all-nighters at work every week! It's not right."

I know dad is just concerned for mom, but I can't help but feel tense whenever they fought. It's been becoming more and more frequent as of late. I started for the bathroom in the hope a good shower will make me feel better.

"Lower your voice," mom harshly whispered.

"Oh, she knows! She's just as concerned as I am about you! When are you going to tell your boss to hire more help so you can spend time with _your_ family, huh."

The door to the bathroom creaked as I flicked on the light and stepped inside.

"You don't understand... it's not that easy," was the last thing mom mumbled as I closed the door and prepared for my shower.

I never voiced my thoughts because I didn't want to seem selfish, but he's right; when will she take a break and spend time with us? She's always running ragged back and forth at work. Heck! I don't think I've seen her this week since Saturday!

But...she loves her job...I can't take that away from her if she enjoys it. She might not have supported me as much as dad did with my career choice, but I can't do that to her.

The hot water splashed across my face and body, instantly releasing all the tension I was holding. A long sigh escaped my mouth as I let the water wash away all my thoughts and concerns.

_Tomorrow, I'm going to go search for that man in the letters. I have to know._

Finding the foot was the last straw. I need to figure out this case before another body turns up.

* * *

The night air was warm, and the stars shined above my head as I hung from my windowsill. Beads of sweat dripped into my eyes, and strands of hair stuck to my face as I found my footing on the roof and jumped onto the branch of the old oak tree before falling to the ground with a dull _thud_.

My backpack lurched forward, sending me to the ground with a grunt. I spit out some freshly cut grass leftover from when dad mowed the lawn earlier today and stood back up. The neighbourhood was quiet, as it has been these past few months. Not a soul was out walking about—even the birds were hushed as I made it towards the side of the house where I had my bike leaning. My ears perked, and my eyes were scanning the area for any signs of the mystery vehicle...but they weren't around. _Good_.

I made a break for the road, hopped on the bike and started towards the park. The tension back home was palpable. All through dinner, I held my breath, waiting for mom or dad to snap and start another argument. For now, it seems, a truce has been made between them, but I hope they're still too wrapped up in their little fight to check up on me in my room while I'm out.

The pavement gave way as I took a sharp right onto the park road. I pulled to the side and grabbed the map out of my bag, and looked it over. The flashlight glared over the paper and the crude drawing, making it hard to make out where I was. Scanning the area one last time, I found my location and began the long trip into the mountains. Every so often, I would have to pause and re-examine my location, making sure I don't miss the turnoff—

—The rattle of the chain on the bike knocked against my ankle, tangling up in the peddle and forcing me to stop.

"Fuck!" I cursed and hopped off the bike and shined the flashlight over my broken chain. A groan fell from my mouth as I stood back up and tossed the bike against a tree. I would have to continue on foot, great.

I reached into my backpack for dad's Glock 19 and secured the carrier on my hip. The added security eased my nerves as I took a calming breath, fixed my hair away from my eyes, and started down the road.

At last, I found the turnoff point located on the map. The narrow path grew thicker the further I went. The oaks and maples in the forest creaked and groaned as the wind swept through them. Even with the added light from the moon and stars above, the forest was pitch black. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It rested on top of the gun, but that didn't ease the fear in my chest—

—Something sounded out to my far left, startling me and making me miss my step. The low groan vibrated through the air and set off alarm bells in my head. The spotlight from my flashlight trembled as I brought it around in search of the creature. A black, disfigured shape stumbled across the light and behind a tree. It happened so fast, but I was sure I saw a human head. What was a human doing out here in the dark?

I could feel the blood pumping through my whole body, and every hair on me standing on edge. I held my breath as the... _thing_ came back into focus. The mop of matted black hair stuck out at odd angles, and patches were even missing from the side. The person's clothes were ripped and torn, and a god awful stench radiated off of her like a cloud—it reminded me of the stench from yesterday. She stumbled to a stop, seemingly just noticing the light shining on her, and turned her face—

—It took me a second to realize I was screaming. I tripped backwards, catching myself on a tree and continued stumbling away. The woman's face hung off her skull like a cheap Halloween mask; I could see all the muscles flexing and clenching as her hollowed-out eyes honed in on me. The sound she made was not human, but there wasn't any other explanation as to what sound that was. Her red arms reached out for me, and her mouth snapped in the air, waiting to do that around my neck.

I bolted. I had no clue where I was going. What direction? I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from... _it_. The word knocked at the front of my head, but all rational thoughts shook it off.

My ankles rolled and stumbled over the uneven ground, catching on every fallen stick, and rock life wanted to throw at me at that moment. Branches slapped me across the face, the taste of iron sat on my lips as I licked it away.

Another shadow lurched out at me—it was _another_ one of those...those...things! The lanky man had only one arm, and his neck was torn open, but it didn't slow him down as he lurched out for me and grabbed my bicep. I reacted on instinct. My hand grasped the handle of the gun, and I aimed it at his shoulder. The crack of my shot tore through the air, sending a ringing through my ears as I ripped my arm from the man's grasp. The bullet hit him. Blood sprayed across the tree beside him and the leaves, but he didn't seem fazed by it—only angry. He roared, startling me to shoot again, this time at his chest. He stumbled back with a groan, and this time, I didn't stick around to see if he stayed down.

I bolted once more. The muscles in my throat ached and threatened to rip apart from my screams. I ran aimlessly through the bush. A single light shined through the small clearing like a beacon of hope. I didn't care; I ran straight for it at full speed. The blood thundered through my ears, and my legs hurt, but I pushed up the two steps and ripped the door open and shut it in one movement. I didn't breathe until I heard the click from the deadbolt sound out.

Then the click behind me stunned me to the spot. "How did you find this place?" The voice growled out.

My hands shook as I raised them to the side of my head. Slowly, I turned around to face the man. The darkness cloaking his hollow face lifted, and the whites of his eyes bulged out.

"(F.N)?"

It was my turn to reel back. "Billy Rabbitson?"

Instantly he lowered his gun and took in my sight, freezing over the map in my hand and my dishevelled appearance. "You saw them... didn't you?"

"I...I...what are they?"

His eyes darted around the room and fixated on the windows and doors behind me. His shoulders and his face dropped. "You know very well what they are; you just don't want to believe it's true."

My head swayed, sending a few whisks of hair to stick to my bloodies and sweaty face. "You gotta be kidding?" My words dried up when I stared into his eyes, set back in the hollows of his ashen face. "That's...i-it's _impossible_. That's only in the movies—this is real life!"

His skin pulled taut over his mouth as one side curled into a tight skeleton smirk. "Doesn't seem all that impossible...look at me, I'm supposed to be dead, but here I am." He broke off with an empty chuckle.

"But...you're not like them. They—they're dead!"

_It's, it's impossible. Zombies are only real in cheesy horror movies...not real life. Not in Raccoon City!_

"How? How did this happen? Why here, and why do you involve me in all this?"

As he opened his mouth to speak, a banging came from the door, followed by low growls and moans. I jumped back and stood next to Billy. My heart hammered every time the bangs sounded out. Bang! Bang! Bang! They grew louder and more urgent.

"They found my hideout. We aren't safe here anymore. We need to leave—NOW!" The shatter from the broken window jerked me into action. A bloodied, decomposed arm dug through the boarded-up windows, and the moan's from the zombies doubled. That sounded a lot more than two zombies out there.

"H—how many of these things are there?"

"Too many," He said and grabbed me by the shoulders so I could look into his eyes. "Listen to me; I was part of a cover-up. You, me... everyone you love—every man, woman and child in Raccoon is in grave danger. I know this doesn't make sense, but it will. You need to warn—"

Something large plowed through the boards, breaking them apart as it landed on the floor with a roar. My heart jumped into my throat, making it impossible for me to scream or even move. The beast looked like a dog, but it wasn't—they were like the others. It pulled its rotting lips over its gnarled teeth; red liquid poured from its gaping mouth as its fog—grey eyes honed in on Billy and me. With slow, careful steps, it leered on the edge of our space, jerking and twitching its skinned head as its exposed muscles contracted and relaxed. The foul odour was impossible to ignore and escape.

Billy ripped his gun up and fired off at the beast. "GO! NOW!"

I stumbled back as the beast pounced on Billy, his gunshots hit the creature, but like the zombies I met outside, it did nothing to slow them down. It chomped and snapped at his head, but he held them off and fired another round.

"What are you doing?" He cried out. "Get out of here—" The beast leaped on his chest and grabbed him by the face. The bubbled gurgle of his screams paralyzed me. It was as if a hand clamped around my throat. It took me a moment to realize the ringing in my ears was from my screams.

The door burst open, and a group of four zombies piled inside the tight cabin. They honed in on Billy and me and immediately moved towards Billy, while two more waltzed in and came after me. I clawed my way over the little furniture he had and raced up the crooked wooden stairs to the loft above. Billy's screams became weaker by the second until a wet moaning sound filled the room.

There was nowhere for me to go; the only option was—footsteps sounded on the steps. They were coming!

I tore across the room, ripped open the window and stuck my head outside to make sure the coast was clear. Sucking in a breath, I jumped.

The pop in my ankle sounded out and made me scream. I slammed my mouth shut right away, but it was too late. Movement in the shack doubled, and through the dim lighting, I could see bodies ambling out the door towards me. Fresh blood spilled from the zombie's mouths as I dragged myself back. My ankle throbbed, and my heart threatened to burst from my chest. I fumbled with my sidearm and ripped it up, and closed my eyes to shoot. The grunts and muffled moans silenced, and when I opened my eyes, the zombie laid at my feet.

I kicked it away and scrambled to my feet, and fired off at another zombie closing in. As I stepped back, I fumbled as a pain scorched through my ankle, making me cry out.

Growls snapped out in the darkness, and shapes darted around. Another dog leapt from the shadows, but I got my gun on it in time to shoot it. It took almost my whole clip to finally put it down. Another scream ripped from my hoarse throat while one more of those horrible dogs chased me. I fumbled with my knife, crying out as I sliced my palm open on the blade. The thud of the dog's paws pounding over the ground jerked me to sprint faster. I unloaded my gun on it, but my aim wasn't the best.

It shortened the gap between us in a few strides until it was nearly on top of me. I gasped and sputtered as my throat burned for air. My legs gave out. I stumbled to the ground with a roll, and in an instant, the beast was on top of me. I hacked and thrashed the knife where I thought it was and pried it off with my other hand. Its growling and barking pierced every nerve in my body. When my arms began to give out, I hurled the knife forward with a scream. The blade met something tangible, and the beast yelped and cried and tried to pull off me, but I thrust the knife deeper until the creature collapsed beside me with a gasp.

Tears blurred my vision and streamed down my cheeks as I clawed back up and resumed my race back to the road. When the trees thinned, and the unmistakable sight of the road appeared ahead, I cried out and stumbled into it.

A horn blasted, and the crunch of gravel sounded out as two bright headlights exploded in my face.

"(F.N)!" The voice sounded out, and a pair of arms snatched at me.

I screamed and thrashed at the person, but they grabbed my hands.

"(F.N)! What the hell are you doing?" Joseph snapped and violently shook me. I blinked back my shock and turned my gaze from Joseph's furrowed brows and Chris' startled face.

"Get her in the car." I heard Chris say, and a pair of hands led me and shoved me into the dirty backseat of someone's car.

"(F.N), what the—"

"Drive!" My voice spurred Chris into action, and soon we were cruising down the road.

I clutched my knees. My hands shook. Every muscle was round tight, and my vision was disfigured. Lights whipped across my face, but I hardly noticed. Joseph and Chris muttered to themselves, but I couldn't make out what exactly they were saying. It was a few minutes later, when my heart began to pump normally, and the shaking became bearable, did I realize the car had stopped and both men were staring at me intently.

"...What?" I groaned.

"Out of the car," Joseph said and immediately pulled the door open.

The night air licked at my hot skin, refreshing me as I cooled off, but did nothing to cool my mind from what happened back there. Billy was gone, and I nearly didn't make it myself, and most of all, zombies are real...I just witnessed them.

"(F.N)."

I tiled my head away from the lookout point and over to Joe off to my side. His arms were crossed, and his face had an 'all business' motif about him. "The hell happened back there? Mom and dad have been worried sick. They called me half an hour ago saying you weren't in your—is that dad's gun?!" He leaned over and yanked the gun out of my hand and waved it in my face. "The hell are you doing with dad's gun? And why the hell are you out in the fucking park at night?"

"Joe," I finally managed to pull myself together. "In the park...I found...I found something...I...I...I don't know how to explain it—but you got to believe me! Joe, In the reports, the R.P.D. lied about what attacked those people—it wasn't some bear or random animals it was, it was…"

Joseph's eyes glowed under the flickering streetlight, and a low growl emanated deep in his chest. "The reports? Damn it, (F.N), _this_ is what everything is about?! Your damn story?!"

"Joe, please, let me explain—"

"NO! You let _me_ explain something to you!" He erupted with a guttural roar, making me step back. Chris got out of the car and headed to Joe.

"Hey, Joe...take a breath, she's shaken up enough as it is—"

Joseph whirled on Chris, "No, Chris, she needs to hear this! She has been running around screwing with everyone just to get her way long enough. All this week, I've been trying to get ahold of you, but dad kept saying you were out all day. (F.N), do you know when I went to work the other day, Marvin pulled me aside and told me he saw you come into the station Saturday? Jesus, (F.N)...are you so stubborn that you not only stole Chris' work key, but you actually used it to get into our office and records room? The hell is the matter with you?" He shouted. "Do you have any idea how many laws you broke? What if someone other than Marvin saw you? You're damn lucky Marvin was nice enough to keep that information to himself! Is that why you've been at the park all week?"

"I...I...you don't understand! This isn't just some random killings—"

"(F.N)—"

"No!" I shouted. "You listen! I've seen them."

Both men's faces contoured as they flickered their gazes to one another. "Them?" Joe drew out. " _Who's_ them?"

"What's been attacking these hikers. These...monsters. I, I…" I took in a calming breath before continuing. "There are zombies in the park—I saw them! They attacked me when I went up to the shack—a—and dog zombies too!"

Both men looked at me as if I grew two heads. Joseph didn't look mad anymore; he looked done. His face fell, and his mouth slacked. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "(F.N)...I think you need help. I...this story has obviously gotten to you worse than I thought."

My heart sank, and tears pricked in my eyes. "No, Joe, you have to believe me! Just...go to the shack and see for yourself! A—a man has been sending me letters in the mail giving me clues—I can show you! He did it because there have been men trying to kill me because I know too much—"

"ENOUGH!" Joseph shouted. A loud hush fell over the area as he reeled himself back in and took several breaths. "Just...stop, (F.N). Just stop. I don't want to hear anymore."

"But Joe—"

"No. Just...get in the car."

"Joseph," Chris piped in. "I can take her home and come back to pick you up. Just take a breather."

Joseph shook his head, his voice distant as he spoke. "No, thank you, Chris, but I need to take her home and talk to my parents. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. Just, can you drop us off?"

Chris paused. "Sure thing, bud."

My vision distorted, and my mouth quivered. "Joe, you have to believe me. Just go to the shack, you'll see—"

"Get in the car, (F.N). Don't make me force you." He pointed to the backseat of Chris' car and refused to look me in the eye.

My mouth fell open, but no words could form. I simply limped to the car, pulled open the door and collapsed in the backseat. I stared at the back of the passenger seat while a million confused thoughts ran through my head. I focused my efforts on stopping myself from crying. It got cold in the car, and my body was exhausted; all I wanted was to curl up in my bed and cry.

"She's just exhausted. She'll be fine tomorrow, you'll see." Chris said and started up the car and pulled onto the street.

"I don't think so, Chris. I really don't."

It was the longest car ride of my life. Through my blurred vision, I caught Chris' concerned gaze in the mirror, he tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace.

Joseph had his eyes locked ahead, and he didn't budge an inch until we pulled into our driveway.

Mom and dad ran towards me as I got out of the car. They yelled and screamed in my face; tears welled up in mom's eyes as she took me in her arms. Joseph and dad tried to usher us inside as quietly as possible, and Chris said good night without anything else before pulling out of the driveway.

I stood in the entranceway, staring through everyone. Joseph explained to mom and dad what happened and handed the gun back to dad; his face hung slack as he eyed the weapon in his open hands. When his eyes raised to mine...it tore my heart apart. Mortification. Anger. Things I couldn't put into words splayed across his face, but the disappointment hurt the most. "(F.N)...go to your room."

"Dad—"

"NOW!"

I flicked my eyes from dad to mom, but she was a mess; her tears streamed down her red face as she held herself. Joseph stared through me. Nothing showed on his face—nothing at all. Slowly, I clamped my mouth shut, and with a nod, I started up the stairs.

The bed creaked as I sat down and stared at my wall. The lamp on my side table cast long shadows across the room. I stared at them, trying to make sense of it all.

_I can show them... they'll believe me when they see it. They need to know!_

Fresh blood pooled into my palm from the open wound, but I didn't feel it. The crimson blood filled every line in my dirty hand. The dirt trailed up my arm and towards my ripped sleeve and a bruised neck. In the mirror, I didn't know who was staring back at me; a wild woman? Or a nutcase?

_Did I see what I saw tonight, or was that not real?_

I stirred when the door downstairs shut and the back of Joseph's head popped into view as it bobbed down the driveway. He didn't look back as he turned down the street. I watched him until the shadows consumed him, and then I laid my head down on my pillow and closed my eyes, and let sleep wash everything away.

* * *

It's been two days since that night. Two days of silence from Joseph, and mom and dad hardly looked at me. Some of the only words they spoke to me were how I could not leave the house, at least not until everything calms down and we get everything sorted out.

I begged them to believe me, but they just shook their heads with a tight grimace on their faces. I gave up trying to explain things to them—it was no use.

I picked at my bandaged hand in my room and shifted the ice pack off my swollen ankle. Then, a knock sounded at my door. When it opened, mom's head popped in. "Hey, sweetie...I made some soup, would you like some?"

I shook my head.

"It's your favourite!" She brought in a tray and placed it on my lap. Her smile was forced; I could tell by the lines around her eyes and the twitch of her lip. She cleared her throat, dropped her smile as fast as a blink, and settled on the edge of my bed. "(F.N)...Marvin called me just now. He told me what you did last week—"

"Mo—"

She held her hand up to silence me. "He didn't tell anyone other than Joseph and Chris... don't worry." She bit her lips and picked at the tray. "He...we informed him of what happened to you the other night, and he made a note to tell his superiors about your account. They found the shack you mentioned. Hunny, there was nothing there...just an old run-down shack that hasn't been used in years, they said."

All the air left my body. "H—how...that can't be true."

Mom brushed a strand of hair out of my eye and rested her hand over my thigh, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Oh, hun...I wish it could be true. I know you would never lie to us...but…" she trailed off.

_It wasn't there—no bodies...nothing._

"No, that can't be right," I cried. "Are you sure they checked the right area?"

"Joseph gave them the directions. It is the right spot, (F.N). I'm sorry." She fixed the tray on my lap and kissed my forehead. "Eat the soup and relax for a while. I'll check up on you in a bit." With the click of the door closing, everything fell apart.

_It... they're wrong! I know what I saw. It was there! It has to be…_

_They're wrong...they're wrong._

* * *

_July 9th,_

_They closed the parks today. Chief Irons made a public announcement advising everyone that a curfew will be implemented until they catch the killer or killers and bring them to justice. I watched him smile and nod like the good puppet he was. God, he makes me sick._

_Mom returned to her old ways, or she's using work as an escape to get away from her crazy daughter now. She doesn't smile._

_Dad hasn't said more than a few words to me; he doesn't even look at me anymore. I hide in my room, so I don't have to see the disappointment painted on his face, but it hurts not hearing him joke around._

_Joe...he hasn't said a peep to me since that night. Hasn't dropped by. Nothing._

_Marvin kept quiet about my stunt with the RPD, I don't know how he managed to cover that up, but I'm grateful for him._

_The days grow longer, and the nightmares continue. Billy's face and screams haunt my every waking moment and every time I close my eyes. Blood paints my hands, and those monsters chase me in an endless loop, and no matter how fast I run, they always catch up._

_July 22nd,_

_People's apprehensions skyrocketed as three more bodies were discovered a few days earlier. The RPD issued the road to the mountains to be blocked off. No one was to go up there._

I closed my journal and stretched from my chair. The afternoon sun shined warmly over my face as I sat at my desk. The house was silent. Mom was at work, and dad stepped out of the house for a few hours. It was just me and my thoughts...again.

The knock at the front door stirred me from my daydreams. I stood up and winced. My ankle still hurt as I put most of my weight on it, but it was getting to be less noticeable as the week progressed. Quickly, I limped down the steps and started for the front door, but no one was there when I opened it.

Furrowing my brows, I stepped out onto the deck and double-checked the street for any sign of the mystery vehicle and was relieved to see it wasn't there. With a shrug, I made a move to step inside but froze when I noticed the letter on the mat addressed to me. The neat handwriting caught my eye as I plucked up the note and turned it over in my hand.

It was the first letter I received since...shaking off the thought, I ripped it open and froze.

 _'You saw'_ was written in large red letters on the front page. With a shaky hand, I turned the page over and out dropped a clipping from a newspaper. Billy's smiling face stared up at me, and the same red ink scribbled over the clipping. _'Billy saw too. What else was Billy hiding?'_ Attached to the clipping was a photo. I recognized it from my research; The Arklay Mansion. _'Can you trust anyone anymore?'_ On the last page was a picture of one of those...monsters, and like the other pages, the red ink blotted across it. _'You're not crazy. You know what you saw...so do they. It's too late to back out now'._

I don't know if this was a threat or a warning of what's to come. Whoever it was, knows what happened to me.

_Could it be a friend and ally of Billy?_

_'It's too late to back out now.'_

They're right. Whoever is after me is aware I know too much. It's only a matter of time before they strike.

Lifting my chin, I crumpled the papers in my hand and raced up to my room and pulled out the developed photos I had made from my trip down to the RPD. I flipped through them until I reached the ones I was searching for.

The blueprints to the Arklay Mansion were as twisted and as complicated as its history. Now is not the time to wait. I needed to attack fast.

_I just need a plan._


End file.
